Overcome
by SkyClimber
Summary: Merlin is taken from Camelot under suspicious conditions. When it's revealed why Merlin was really taken, Arthur faces the truth about how much Merlin really means to him. NO SLASH! /Takes place between series' two and three; implied MerlinxMorgana/
1. Chapter One

**A/N: Hey everybody! This is the first Merlin fic I've ever even attempted, and I'm pretty proud of this first chapter. I have a pretty awesome plot planned out and I'm super excited to get further into this story and deeper into the plot! So, I hope you all like it!**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Merlin**_** or any of its characters.**_

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**Chapter One**

"Come now, Merlin! You're supposed to be a _moving_ target! Stop cowering like the weakling you are, and give me something to work with!"

After two hours of holding a shield that was half his size and having to run around and have the crown prince of Camelot shoot arrows at him, Merlin had a good excuse to be tired. His legs felt as if they would give out on him at any second, his head was buzzing, his whole body was drenched with sweat; he wished that he and Arthur could switch places for even five minutes. Of course, Arthur, being the king's son, would do much better as a target than Merlin, as he could actually keep the shield off the ground and moving.

Inconspicuously behind the shield, Merlin pulled up his right sleeve and flexed. He wasn't as scrawny as Arthur always made him out to be, but he admitted he had some work to do to get those muscles even close to the no-more-mocking-from-Arthur point… if even such a thing existed.

He frantically pulled his sleeve back down when Arthur pounded on the shield with his crossbow, having crossed the distance between them while Merlin was distracted. The look that was on his face gave no promise of kindness to Merlin, and the young warlock prepared himself for the yelling. Whenever Merlin slacked in training, Arthur always took out his anger with yelling in his manservant's face. Merlin hardly blamed him, as it was usually Merlin's fault anyway, but it didn't mean the young warlock liked it any more than any other person would.

"I understand that you're not the best person to be training with, but you usually give me a little more than what you're giving me today. Did you have trouble sleeping last night or something?" Although he knew that Arthur would deny it if anyone asked, Merlin heard the touch of true concern in the prince's voice while addressing his manservant.

Merlin shook his head. "No. I slept fine."

Arthur's hands found his hips. "You're an awful liar, Merlin, I hope you know." The prince took the shield from Merlin's grasp and heaved it to one of his knights, who caught it effortlessly and carried it over to where the other shields were lying in the grass. "But since you say you slept fine, you should be up to a little swordfight." Merlin sighed, glaring at the prince. "Come on now. Ready yourself."

"You can't be serious," Merlin responded. He motioned towards his body, dressed in thin cloth that wouldn't protect him if there should be some kind of accident.

"More than you know." Arthur sheathed his sword, holding it out towards his manservant. "Get yourself a sword and face me." Merlin opened his mouth to protest, but the look Arthur gave him in the same instant made the warlock lock his lips and take the sword offered to him by another knight. With no armor or shield, Merlin crossed his sword with Arthur's, which was the first fatal mistake of his.

Not even three seconds into the fight and Merlin was already on the ground, Arthur's sword at his chest. The future king shook his head in disapproval while Merlin scowled up at him.

"Never think your opponent will wait for you to deliver the first blow, Merlin," Arthur told him, moving his sword away from his manservant's heart and offering him a hand. Merlin took it and allowed Arthur to pull him back to his feet.

"I thought these training sessions were for you, not me," Merlin uttered, brushing himself off. Arthur tousled Merlin's raven-colored hair, resulting in another scowl from the warlock.

"Someone needs to get some sort of fighting ability into that thick skull of yours. Honestly, Merlin, you've no idea how to use a sword, or even a shield, properly. You'd die on the battlefield before you even knew what you were fighting for."

"You forget, sire; I never step foot on the battlefield. You yourself won't allow it."

"Simply because I know you wouldn't last a second, as you didn't in this training exercise. Now pick up your sword and come at me again. And this time, don't let my usual kind and merciful nature fool you." Merlin didn't allow Arthur to see the roll of his eyes as he bent down to grab the hilt of his sword. He turned around to face Arthur again, only to have to jump back as Arthur swung his sword at him.

"That's hardly fair!" Merlin yelled at him, blocking another blow.

"Nothing's fair in battle!" Arthur retorted, swinging his sword at his manservant once again. Metal clashed on metal, and, surprising both servant and master, Merlin was able to keep on his feet and block all of Arthur's blows. Though they were both out of breath, they continued; Arthur swiped at Merlin's arms, legs, head, chest. If he saw one opening in Merlin's weak defense, he went after it, but was continually astounded with Merlin's quick reflexes. Becoming more and more impatient with his servant's sudden perfect fighting abilities, Arthur began swinging harder and fiercer blows. Merlin continued blocking them, though Arthur was backing him up across the training area. Merlin's arms felt incredibly tired and sore, and it took all his strength to merely hold on to the hilt of the sword.

The sound of the first scream of agony was what finally stopped the fight.

Merlin's sword dropped to the ground as he clutched his upper left arm, his teeth clenched tightly together. Arthur dropped his sword as well, grabbing Merlin's shoulders tenderly.

"You see what I mean? No fighting abilities whatsoever." His joke went unnoticed as he rushed Merlin away from the training area and towards the court physician's chambers.

Gaius jumped when the door to his chambers suddenly slammed open and Arthur hurried a pained Merlin into the room. As soon as the elderly physician saw the look of agony on Merlin's face and saw him clutching his arm, Gaius hurried to hold the door open to Merlin's room in the back of his chambers. Arthur led the injured teen back into his room and helped him slowly lie down on his bed.

"What happened to him?" Gaius asked as he began slowly and carefully slipping Merlin's jacket off. Arthur took the jacket and carelessly threw it on the ground beneath the hooks where Merlin normally hung his jackets while Gaius began taking the young warlock's red neckerchief and long-sleeved blue tunic off.

"I was training him, and accidentally sliced him with my sword," Arthur explained in a short summary. Gaius tossed the neckerchief and tunic over to where Arthur had thrown Merlin's jacket and then exited the room. Arthur took a seat on the single stool in the room and looked at Merlin's rapidly moving chest. He found himself confused; surely it couldn't hurt that bad… it was only a small cut from a sword. Then again, he supposed Merlin probably wasn't used to it, as he hardly ever handled a sword.

Gaius returned a few minutes later with a bucket of fresh water and a white cloth. He knelt down beside Merlin's bed, opposite the side that Arthur was on, and observed the wound on his nephew's arm. He then plunged the cloth into the bucket of water, wrung it out after a short moment, and placed it against the bleeding cut. Merlin jumped a little at the sudden touch of the cold water, sucking a breath in through his teeth, but soon relaxed when the cold began to feel more soothing against the hotness of his injured skin.

After a few minutes of letting the cloth simply rest against the wound, Gaius removed it to observe the damage a bit more. Fresh blood began oozing out of the cut instantly after the physician remove the rag, and so Gaius got it wet again and placed it on Merlin's arm once again.

"The cut is infected," Gaius announced as Merlin gritted his teeth against the cold once again. "Merlin, you clean the swords, don't you?"

"Most of them," the teenager rasped, starting to get used to the cold. "I'm not the only servant around, you know."

"Hold this rag against the cut, Merlin," Gaius instructed. "I'm going to go get a potion that will help with the pain, some cleaning supplies for the wound, and some bandages. My lord, will you please-" Arthur held up his hand to stop Gaius before he finished.

"I'll stay and make sure he doesn't hurt himself further," the prince told him, smirking.

"You're the one who hurt me," Merlin objected, taking a hold of the wet rag with his right hand. Gaius stood, gave Arthur a slight bow of his head, and then brushed out of the room.

Arthur leaned over and flicked Merlin in the side of the head. Merlin's mouth fell open as he looked over at the prince.

"And that was for?" he asked. Arthur merely shrugged his shoulders. Merlin rolled and closed his eyes, resting his head against his pillow. After a moment of silence, Merlin lowered the rag from his arm into the bucket of water to get it wetter and colder before replacing it on the wound. The two of them sat in silence as the faint footsteps from the conjoining room whispered around the air around them. Arthur decided to mimic Merlin's actions and closed his eyes, hanging his head so that his chin rested against his chest. His arms crossed his chest and he relaxed his muscles, just now realizing how tired he really was.

Merlin opened one eye and peeked over at the resting prince, a small smirk forming on his lips. Arthur never admitted when he was too tired to continue training, making it seem like he could go on forever without any breaks. He only ever stopped when he thought the other knights needed to, though Merlin knew the young future king was just as exhausted as his knights were after a couple hours of swinging around swords and shields.

Merlin sighed and closed his tired eye, wishing for sleep to succumb him. He heard Arthur's quiet snores floating around the room, and he mentally made a note to be sure to let the prince know. He grinned to himself, his eyes still closed, and the last thing he heard was Gaius kneel down beside him again.

* * *

_A large mirror with a stone arch as a border stood among a small stone table. One the table sat a single silver goblet, gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. A young teenage boy whose hands were bound behind his back and his eyes covered by a red piece of cloth was shoved towards the table by a larger, muscular man. The boy was forced down onto his knees in front of the table by his captor, and the cloth was torn from his eyes._

_"Don't move," the muscular man ordered, his voice deep and demanding. He then turned to the mirror while the young boy blinked and got accustomed to the sudden brightness. The man placed one large hand on the mirror, and the glass rippled under his touch._

_"My lady," he murmured, bowing his head in respect. A young woman with long, deep brown hair and a violet dress appeared in the mirror. The bound boy instantly recognized her, and she smiled wickedly at the look of horror and shock on his face._

_"Hello Merlin," she greeted him casually._

Merlin jolted upright in his bed, a loud gasp breaking through his lips. His gasp was loud and sudden enough that it woke Arthur, who gasped in turn, flailed his arms, and screamed as he fell backwards off his toppling stool. He grunted when he hit the floor, but quickly composed himself and got back to his feet. He glared daggers down at his manservant, ignoring the distressed look on his face.

"Really Merlin!" Arthur all but shrieked. Gaius came rushing into the room in his white nightwear, worry written all over his old face.

"What happened?" he demanded. His eyes traveled over the toppled stool, past Arthur's weary-but-frustrated face, and fixated on Merlin's distant expression. The physician hurried over to his nephew's side and observed the bandaged wound on his arm.

"He woke with no warning whatsoever, causing me to fall over in surprise," Arthur explained, acid still dripping with every word. Gaius placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"Merlin…?" he said quietly. The young warlock suddenly snapped out of his trance and looked over at Gaius. "What happened?" the elderly man asked, urgency in his tired voice.

"It was just a dream," replied Merlin. No need in worrying him over something that more likely than not meant nothing. "One of those jump dreams."

Gaius raised an eyebrow. "A… jump dream?" Merlin nodded.

"Arthur and I were training again, and right before he slammed his shield into my face" – Arthur snickered – "I woke up. I get them all the time."

"I guess training had a big impact on you, eh, Merlin?" Arthur teased. He ruffled his manservant's hair before going to the door. "Be to my chambers normal time."

"Uh, sire," Gaius began. "I'd actually recommend letting Merlin rest his arm tomorrow. He'll be back to work a day later, I assure you."

"Fine," Arthur agreed. He jabbed his finger in Merlin's direction. "That cut had better hurt something fierce." Merlin smirked as best he could in his current state of mind. "I'll save mucking out my horses for you, as a little welcome back to work gift." Merlin's smirk turned into a scowl.

"How considerate of you," he hissed. Arthur grinned widely, then swept from the room.

Gaius turned back to Merlin. "And all it was-"

"-was a jump dream," Merlin finished for him, assurance in his blue eyes. Gaius nodded and pushed himself back to his feet.

"Is your wound giving you any pain? Do you want anything for it?"

"It's fine, Gaius, thanks." Merlin gave the physician the best reassuring smile he could manage, and Gaius nodded again. He moved towards the door, turning back around to face his nephew on his way through the doorway.

"Right then," he said, yawning. "Good night."

"Good night, Gaius," Merlin responded. Gaius nodded once more before leaving, closing the door behind him.

Merlin turned onto the side with his uninjured arm and stared at the wall. His dream had been nothing like a simple jump dream; it had been a full-on nightmare, simply because of _her_ face making an appearance. He knew it couldn't – didn't – mean anything, as she couldn't pose any sort of threat to him now.

He closed his eyes, hoping for a more peaceful sleep, but found his eyes snapping open again when the image of her face from his nightmare appeared behind his lids. He felt his heart rate quicken, and he took a few deep breaths. He sat up and crossed his legs under the thin blanket he had, bending over to pick up the bucket of water still by the side of his bed. He set the bucket in his lap, cupped his hands together, and pooled some of the water in them. He then proceeded to splash his face, welcoming the coldness of the water against his suddenly sweaty skin.

A couple of splashes later, he found himself on his back again, staring up at the ceiling. His hands were laced together on top of his bare chest as he dove back into thought.

Gaius was the one who told him that dreams always came to you for a reason, even the ridiculous ones that don't seem to make any sense. But, no matter how hard he tried, Merlin couldn't see how his dream – nightmare – meant anything. Nimueh was dead; there was no way she could come back. Was there?

Merlin shook his head at himself and closed his eyes, grateful when all he saw was darkness. He sighed quietly to himself, repeating _"she's dead, she's dead, she's dead"_ in his head over and over. He wasn't about to believe that she would coming back any time soon – any time at all.

He tried to relax as best he could, and before he knew it, he sunk back into unconsciousness.

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**A/N: Okay, so I'm not entirely sure of any of the character's actual ages, but while watching this show, I always figured Merlin to be eighteen and Arthur to be around nineteen or twenty, so in this story, they're both just going to be referred to as teenagers, but not young teenagers, of course. I just always considered them to still be in their older teens.**

**I hope you liked it! And a cookie goes out to anyone who guessed the woman in the mirror was Nimueh before it was revealed at the end. ;) Chapter two to be up as soon as I can manage! Please review!**

**(( Claire ))**


	2. Chapter Two

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, everyone! I'm glad so many people are liking it already so far! ^_^ Also, as you may have noticed, I did add a bit to the summary, and if you didn't notice... well, I just told you. Lol. I did some thinking, though I already had the plans in mind, but I finally cemented everything perfectly. So... yeah, I edited the summary just a wee bit.**

**And, before anything else, there's something very important I must say... ****_Happy Birthday Colin Morgan!_**** He's 25 years old today, I believe, and even though he most likely will not see this, I just wanted to say it. Lol.**

**So anyway... chapter two awaits!**

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**Chapter Two**

_The tear of rope, the undertone of skin being sliced open, the splash of a drop of blood into a silver goblet, the reverberation of a scream of agony, a bright white light erupting from a large mirror…_

_Merlin on the ground, his eyes closed in pain, mouth slightly agape. A young woman standing over him, a smirk on her face. The turn of her head towards a goblet on a stone table._

_"The balance of the universe must be kept," a quiet voice whispered. "For a life to be saved, a life must end…"_

_Merlin's agonized, vulnerable face… his eyes closed…_

Morgana whipped up from her sheep wool-stuffed pillow, a gasp tearing free from her throat. Her turquoise green eyes were wide as she struggled to regain control over her breathing. She subconsciously reached for her right wrist, tracing her fingers over the imprints of the bracelet she received from her sister. Morgause had been certain about the bracelet being able to keep any and all nightmares out, and it had certainly kept up to its reputation all these months…

Until now.

Only once before had a nightmare slipped through, but it had only been a silly one about Merlin being forced onto the back of a horse, Arthur looking after him as he rode away from Camelot, a stern look on his face. Hardly a nightmare, and Morgause had even said to dismiss it as nothing, which is exactly what Morgana did.

She never expected another, bigger, more drastic one to seep through into her sub consciousness. Whoever the woman was in her dream, she didn't seem to have good intentions.

And Merlin seemed to find that out first hand.

Morgana shook her head at herself and leaned back against her pillow, staring up at the transparent canopy that stretched out between the four large bed posts above her head. She recited what she had heard in her nightmare as a quiet whisper to herself, not wanting to wake Morgause, whose chambers were just next door. She understood this price that had to be paid for another life to be saved, but she didn't understand why a drop of someone's blood had to be inserted into a silver goblet. She thought back over the events of the nightmare, trying to make sense of it.

She tried to put the face of the woman who stood over Merlin's motionless body to anyone she knew, but couldn't put her finger on who the woman was. Morgana began to feel troubled when she couldn't recognize the woman at all, and eventually gave up trying.

What she was really confused about was how this woman knew Merlin, and why she smirked down at his presumably dead body. If someone wanted to kill someone to save another life, wouldn't they just grab a random person they didn't know and kill them? Of course, she assumed Merlin could be a random person to grab for such a case. But there had been something in the woman's eyes when she looked at Merlin… like she had grabbed him for some purposeful reason. A strange shine to her bright blue eyes as she looked down upon the broken body of the teenage boy.

Morgana squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shut out the images of Merlin's motionless body. She couldn't begin to fathom any sort of harm coming to Merlin, though he poisoned her and bargained with her life over something he wasn't even certain of. Despite that unfortunate incident, she remained to feel the bond between the two of them. She didn't care if Merlin could no longer feel it; she felt it more than anything whenever he was mentioned between she and Morgause, or whenever he seemed to cross her mind at all, which happened quite a lot, though she never told Morgause this.

She relaxed herself the best she could and let out a tired sigh as she turned onto her side, keeping her hand locked around the bracelet on her wrist. She wanted no more nightmares, especially none like the one she just suffered through. She never again wanted to see Merlin's face so weak and vulnerable… so broken… It didn't suit his usually cheery attitude… his usually smiling face…

Whoever this woman was, she wanted to destroy the one person in Camelot that ever really understood Morgana. She had to talk to somebody… but not Morgause. Her sister wanted Morgana to kill Merlin herself because of what he did to both of them back in Camelot, and Morgana could only imagine what her sister would say to her true feelings about seeing Merlin die.

Two choices… two people she cared for…

The seer shut out everything she could as she closed her eyes, and eventually sunk back into her slumber.

* * *

Merlin woke the next morning by a beam of sunlight streaming through his window, resting right on his eyes. He was grateful that the rest of his night had been completely dream and nightmare free, but not so grateful to wake up to a stiff neck and a sore arm. He sat up and rubbed his eyes before quickly cracking his neck, hearing the string of pops loudly on both sides. He then proceeded to crack his knuckles and send a wave of pops up his back before stretching and swinging his legs off the side of his bed. He groaned when his right foot splashed into the bucket of water still sitting on the floor. He wiped his hand down his face, from his forehead to his chin, before lifting his foot out of the now-warm water and grabbing one of his dirty tunics off the floor to dry it off.

Gaius was mixing a potion when Merlin hobbled into the main part of the chambers. Sunlight filtered in through the many windows, lighting the room magnificently and warming Merlin's bare chest. Dust motes floated around in the air, visible when they passed through the beams of sunlight.

Merlin walked over and sat down at the table at which he and Gaius always ate their meals and talked. He put his elbows on top of the table and his face in his hands, trying to ignore the soreness of his arm. He was well aware that it didn't feel as painful as it had the previous night, but it still ached pretty badly. Gaius walked over to him, carrying the potion that he had just been mixing, and set it down on the table in front of his nephew.

"Take this," he instructed softly, touching Merlin's messy hair. "It'll ease the pain."

Merlin looked up at Gaius before switching his gaze down to the little glass vial in front of him. Gaius folded his hands behind his back and kept his eyes locked on Merlin, waiting for the teenager to do as he was told. Merlin picked the little bottle up tentatively and observed the greenish liquid inside, swishing it around a bit before lifting it to his lips. He tasted the mixture lightly on his lips, and then swallowed the whole bottle full in one swig, wanting to get it over with. After it was down, he smacked his lips softly; the taste hadn't been horrible, but he'd rather not have to take it again.

Gaius took the bottle from Merlin's hand, filled it with fresh water, and sloshed the water around inside it. He then took a wet rag, wiped off the top of the bottle where Merlin had put his lips, and then placed the empty vial on a large shelf full of empty vials like it.

"How long will it take to heal over?" Merlin asked, running his hand through his dark hair. He stood up and walked over to a small table at the side of the room, picked up the wooden pitcher that sat on the table, and filled a small wooden bowl with the cool water inside the pitcher. He then proceeded to cup his hands, pool them with water, and splash his tired face, attempting to wake himself up a bit more.

"The aching feeling will be there for only a few days, but you'll have a scar there for quite a while," Gaius explained, beginning to mix another potion. "I don't want you to remove that bandaging I put on until I tell you to, either."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Merlin responded, slipping some sarcasm into his voice. He dried his face on a small blue towel he found next to the pitcher, and then continued to wash his hair.

"I thought I told you that you would take today off from work," Gaius said sternly, watching his nephew comb through his hair with his fingers. "I don't want you messing with that arm too much."

"I'm not doing anything that'll hurt it," Merlin responded, dipping the whole top of his head into the water and shaking it around. "Besides… I really needed to clean my hair. It was a mess."

Gaius merely rolled his eyes and went back to mixing his potion.

Only a few minutes later, Merlin dried his head off with the same blue towel, and then returned to his room, closing his door behind him. He turned to his left and walked over to the small table that sat beneath the single window in his room. He stepped up onto the wooden table, pushed the window open, and leaned forward to rest his arms on the stone and stick his head out into the warm morning air. Even way up in the castle, he could hear the merged conversations of the townspeople down below. He left the window open when he stepped down from the table and walked over to his bed, not bothering to climb under his blanket.

He occupied his time by looking through the magic book that Gaius had given him during his first few days in Camelot. Merlin was intrigued by all the spells and incantations the book contained, and it had helped him a great number of times ever since he arrived in Camelot. He often times stayed up at night and studied from the book by candlelight while Gaius was asleep in the other room, though he never told Gaius this. The old man thought just having the book in his possession was dangerous for both himself and Merlin, though Merlin kept trying to assure him that the book would never be found. The young warlock kept it hidden away under one of the floorboards in his room; not even Gaius was ever absolutely sure where the book was.

_"__O'r awyr, gadewch i ddisgyn d__ŵ__r,"_ he recited from the book. He looked out the window instinctively, though he knew nothing was going to happen. Nothing would ever happen until the spell was practiced for a long enough period of time.

He put his chin on his balled fist and continued staring out the window. It was such a nice day, and he was confined to his and Gaius' chambers. He snorted under his breath. _Figures,_ he thought to himself.

He returned to flipping through the book in his lap, occasionally attempting to pronounce a spell out loud. He hadn't realized that it was already midday until Gaius came into his room with some food and told him.

"Thanks Gaius," Merlin said, taking the plate of food from the physician and moving the book aside so he could set the food down in his lap instead.

"How's your arm?" Gaius asked, sitting down at the end of the bed as Merlin took a bite from the piece of bread on the tray.

"Fine," he replied, swallowing the piece of bread. "It hasn't really hurt much since I took that potion you gave me this morning." Gaius nodded, patted Merlin's blanketed leg, and then left the room.

Merlin finished his food in a haste, and then went back to looking through his book. With all the chores that Arthur constantly threw at him, he hardly ever had any time to really look through the book. If he was supposed to be this great and powerful sorcerer, he needed to learn all he could in his early life, and yet Gaius was always scolding him about how dangerous it was to even have the book in his possession.

He leaned back against his pillow and closed his eyes, imagining himself being able to use magic whenever and wherever he pleased, with no trouble of remembering or pronouncing spells. He smiled to himself, and didn't even realize it when he fell asleep.

* * *

"The Court is dismissed," Uther announced, filing the pile of papers that sat on the long table in front of him. The other men that sat around the table began getting to their feet, each bowing slightly in Uther's direction before turning and dispersing from the room. The king pushed himself to his feet as well, the pile of papers tightly clutched in his hand, and made for a different exit than the one the other men took.

The large wooden doors that lead into his chambers were open by the two guards outside them, and Uther entered the large room beyond them. The doors were closed by the same guards as Uther made his way over to a cabinet by his large bed. He turned one of his many keys in a keyhole of one of the drawers and placed the pile of papers inside, and then closed the drawer and locked it. He turned to sit down on his bed and was met by a sword blade to his chest. He gasped loudly and looked up the blade to the person holding it.

"If you are a wise king, then you will keep your mouth shut," a deep voice said from under a black hood. Uther said nothing, but continued to stare into the shadow of the hood, trying to make out some sort of face. Neither of them moved, and after a moment of silence, Uther took a chance.

"Who are you?" he whispered. The cloaked figure chuckled.

"Your worst nightmare," they replied, resulting in Uther raising an eyebrow in disbelief. The chuckles turned into full-on laughs as the figure removed the sword from Uther's chest, sliding it into the sheath at their side. "I'm kidding, Uther Pendragon." The voice was lighter now, as if whoever the person was had been faking the deep voice. They threw back their hood to reveal a young man with short, light brown hair and deep green eyes. A crooked smile was on his face as he waited for the king of Camelot to recognize him.

After another moment of silence, Uther snapped his fingers and smiled.

"Oliver!" he exclaimed. The young man dipped his head in respect, the crooked grin still on his face.

"My lord," he responded. Uther placed one hand on Oliver's shoulder as the young man stood back up straight.

"What has brought you to Camelot?" Uther asked.

"I was sent by my master," Oliver answered. "I'm running an errand for him."

"And how is it you managed to get into my chambers?" Oliver returned the smirk that Uther gave him. He pointed towards an open window not far from where they stood, the cool night breeze softly blowing the curtains.

"It's surprisingly easy to scale your castle walls," Oliver told him. "You might want to get a few more guards… and maybe some new locks for your windows."

Uther ground his teeth together. "Damn those guards," he hissed. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and after only a second of silence, he was smiling at Oliver again. "So tell me of this errand you've been sent on. What is it you need?"

"It's not about what I need," Oliver responded. "It's what my master needs. He sent me to retrieve someone who's been said to be living in Camelot." Uther's face suddenly became serious.

"Is it some kind of sorcerer?" he asked, his smile completely gone. Oliver shook his head.

"My master did not say, but I highly doubt it." Uther let out a sigh.

"Alright then. Who is it your master needs?"

A strange, foul smirk came to Oliver's face. "His name, my lord, is _Merlin_."

* * *

**A/N: And there ya have it! And regarding the little spell that Merlin recited, it is an exact translation from English to Welsh of "From the air, let the water fall". Or, in other words, "Let it rain", lol. I'm not entirely sure of the language spoken in the show, so I went with what's closest, which is Welsh, unless that's actually what they use in the show. If it is... then I feel smart. XD Anyway, please, just don't yell at me for that. I did what I could, and I still think it's cool.**

**I'm seriously happy about the response I got from you guys for chapter one, and I hope I get an even bigger one now that chapter two has been posted. ^_^ So please leave me a little review and let me know what you think!**

**And again... Happy Birthday Colin Morgan! Keep on rockin' those spells and gorgeous looks! ;)**

**(( Claire ))**


	3. Chapter Three

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm really glad you're all enjoying the story so far! I'm having a blast writing it, and I hope you enjoy chapter three!**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

Merlin found himself surprised when he woke up the next morning. The sun was barely peering over the peaks of the surrounding mountains and the young warlock couldn't hear anything out of his open window except for some bird's morning songs. He almost couldn't believe that he had fallen asleep around midday yesterday and slept through the entire night. He figured maybe Gaius had forced some kind of drug down his throat while he was asleep, and Merlin was thankful if the elderly physician had done so.

He yawned, stretching his arms above his head, and swung his legs over the side of his bed. He wiped his eyes and looked out his window at the pink morning sky. He knew he had a few more hours before he was required to be at Arthur's chambers, but since he had nothing to do and he was almost late, he dressed himself in his usual attire, flinching slightly when he pulled his right sleeve over his arm. Pulling on his jacket wasn't as bad, and then he tied his red neckerchief around his neck, switched his pants with another, similar pair, and was crossing the main part of the chambers a few minutes later. He found his shoes by the door, and quietly slipped them on as Gaius coughed and groaned in his sleep. Merlin smirked at the man before exiting the room.

The armory was his first destination, as he was always asked to polish Arthur's armor and chainmail and other things he'd need for battle. On his way down one of the many hallways, his gaze was suddenly occupied by a small wall ornament. He'd seen it every day as he walked down this hallway, and he always looked at it as he passed it by. A shiny black type of metal molded into the shape of a dragon blowing fire, its wings spread wide; it was one of the many dragon items in the Pendragon castle.

He didn't notice anyone walking down the hall from the opposite way until he accidentally ran into him. They both grunted lightly, and Merlin shook his head out of his thoughts.

"Sorry!" he quickly exclaimed. The other man chuckled.

"It's quite all right," he replied calmly, moving his deep green eyes up to meet Merlin's blue ones. "No blood, no foul." Merlin grinned and let out a hesitant laugh before moving past the young man and continuing down the hallway. The young man watched Merlin walk away until the warlock turned a corner and escaped the man's vision. The young man ran his hand through his short, light brown hair and narrowed his eyes slightly before turning and going on his way.

Merlin entered the armory and saw Arthur's armor, chainmail, helmet, padding, and the red outfit he sometimes wore into tournaments and feasts and special events. He sat down on a single stool in front of the table where Arthur's supplies lay. He began polishing the armor, very quietly humming to himself.

The face of the man he had bumped into came back to his mind, and he suddenly found himself no longer humming. Though the man's face had been young and soft and vulnerable, there had been something about him that made Merlin a bit curious. Maybe it had been the way his green eyes had looked so dark, coupled with the black cloak that flowed down to the floor, and the fact that he carried both a sword and a length of rope connected to his belt. The sword was normal, but Merlin saw no one walking the streets of Camelot with rope attached to their belts.

Or maybe it had been the fact that Merlin had never seen this man before. He was aware that newcomers arrived at Camelot commonly, and he knew that he had been restricted to his and Gaius' chambers the entire day before, so he wouldn't know if this man had arrived then. But there seemed to be some sense of direction in this man's head, as if he knew the castle and how to get to whatever his destination was. Merlin had been working in the castle for nearly a year and he still got lost sometimes.

Finishing his work with a little help from his magic, he piled all of the supplies in his arms, grabbed the hilt of Arthur's sword, and started out of the armory. It took him a good seven minutes to get up to Arthur's chambers and he opened the door with a golden flash of his eyes. As he figured, Arthur was still asleep, though sunlight was now beginning to leak in through the windows. Merlin walked over to the table that Arthur ate at and put down all of the supplies as quietly as he could manage. He then began laying it all out as he was normally expected to do. Arthur stirred in his sleep, and Merlin froze, hoping he hadn't woken the prince, and then continued with a sigh when he heard one, very light snore come from the sleeping blond.

When all of the armor was laid out on the table, Merlin grabbed the broom that was resting against Arthur's wardrobe and began sweeping the stone floor. When that was done, he began dusting every table and countertop he could find. He then picked out an outfit and draped it over the top of Arthur's changing screen, readying it for when the young prince was ready to be dressed. Merlin just hoped that Arthur didn't put the outfit away and pick a different one, simply because Merlin had picked it out without consulting him first.

When everything inside Arthur's chambers was finished, and Merlin figured he still had a pretty good lot of time left before the prince could be woken up, the young warlock strode down the halls of the castle and made for the stables. It was absolutely inevitable that Prince Arthur would order Merlin to muck out his horses, even more so because he had said he would save it especially for Merlin, and so the teenager decided to just get it over with before Arthur could have the pleasure of ordering him to do so. The stables stunk badly, and it almost made Merlin's eyes water since it was so early in the morning and his eyes were still a bit tired, but he grabbed the rake leaning up against the wall next to the entrance and began the chore that he so horribly despised.

Nearly an hour later, Merlin stumbled out of the stables, taking in as much fresh air as he possibly could. He wiped the water from his eyes as he started back to the castle, still taking in deep breaths. He saw several people walking about now, and so he knew that it was time to wake Arthur up.

The prince was still asleep when Merlin entered his chambers yet again, and the young warlock did not find himself surprised. He walked over to the large red curtain covering one of the windows and opened it abruptly, causing sunlight to erupt into the room. Sun rays cast right over Arthur's eyes, and he groaned and turned onto his other side. Merlin, smirking, walked over to the window on the other side of Arthur's bed and moved the curtain to the side. Arthur groaned again, but his eyes blinked open into slits.

"Rise and shine," Merlin said to him with a grin. Arthur glared at his servant before turning his face down into his pillows. The young warlock rolled his eyes and walked over to stand above the prince. "Now come on, don't be a prat. Though, I know you can't contain it."

"_Meffin,_" Arthur growled into the pillows, whipping his arm out to the side in an attempt to hit his teenage manservant.

"What's that? Muffin? Well, I'm sure I can get you some muffins if you'd really like some-"

Arthur's hand made hard contact with Merlin's cheek as his face came out of the pillows and he yelled, "_Merlin!_" Merlin touched his cheek tentatively as his mouth fell open.

"Well I'm sorry for doing my job!" he shouted back as Arthur threw his covers off of himself, wiping his hand down his tired face. "My Gods…" Merlin muttered, walking over to the opposite side of the bed and beginning to fluff up the pillows. As he began making the bed, he noticed Arthur stand up and begin looking around the room. A microscopic smirk came to Merlin's face.

"Why does it look so… _clean_?" Arthur asked, looking all around the room.

"Oh, I was just up a bit early and figured I'd get some work done. Your armor is polished and over on the table, your floor is swept, your room is dusted, and your outfit is hanging over on the screen." Arthur continued to turn his head in all directions, taking in the sight of his clean chambers.

"And you did all of this before I even woke up…" It was more of a statement than a question.

Merlin nodded. "Your snoring made a fine substitute for your usual banter, though. So, you've no need to worry about that." Arthur crossed over to where Merlin stood quicker than Merlin would have thought possible, and the prince's finger was in Merlin's face immediately.

"I… do not… _snore_," he ordered, his face completely serious. Merlin raised an eyebrow.

"Now how would you know that if you're asleep the whole time?"

Narrowing his eyes as his answer, Arthur walked over to his changing screen and observed the outfit that his servant had picked out for him. Merlin continued working on his bed, but stopped when Arthur addressed him.

"Dress me." The raven-haired teen walked over behind the screen to see that Arthur had already stripped out of his night clothes and pulled on the brown pants that Merlin had picked out. Merlin wrapped the belt around his master's waist and fastened it in front before grabbing the red shirt and throwing it over Arthur's head, carefully pulling it down over his chest and arms. He then grabbed the other belt and wrapped it around his waist above his shirt, allowing it to hang a bit loosely. The two boys walked out from behind the screen and Arthur connected his sword, inside its sheath, to the belt above his shirt, and then slid his arms into his brown jacket.

Merlin moved back over to the bed as Arthur observed his polished armor.

"All before I woke up…" he was muttering to himself as he moved his hand over the chainmail. Merlin grinned out of Arthur's view. "Well, I certainly can't leave you bored with nothing to do," Arthur said after a moment of silence. Merlin turned to face him. "I'm going to make do on my promise; you can go muck out my horses after you're done there." Merlin allowed him to see this smirk.

"Already done," he responded, a bit smugly. Arthur's mouth literally fell open, and Merlin had to hold back his chuckles. The young blond quickly composed himself, glaring over at his servant.

"You're lying to me, Merlin…. aren't you?" Merlin shook his head, and Arthur ran his hand through his tousled blond hair. He then walked over to Merlin and ruffled his own hair, which he received a scowl for. He returned it with a small grin. "Seems as if you're trying to become less and less irritable. Well, you've succeeded for now. But do remember that you still have to-"

What Merlin still had to do no longer mattered, as the doors to Arthur's chambers were suddenly thrown open and two guards marched into the room. Both Arthur and Merlin gave them confused looks, which both became even more confused when each guard grabbed one of Merlin's arms.

"Whoa, whoa, what's going on here?" Arthur questioned them, stopping them before they could go anywhere with Merlin.

"The King has ordered your servant be brought to him immediately," one of the guards informed him.

"Under what reasons?"

"That is none of our business, sire," the other guard stated firmly. Without another word, the two guards walked past Arthur, forcing Merlin along with them. Before they escaped the room, Merlin looked back at Arthur, and the prince could see the honest confusion and worry in his servant's bright blue eyes. Without even taking a second to hesitate, Arthur was running from his room after them. He quickly caught up to them, and the guards said nothing as he did his best to walk right behind his servant.

"What did you do?" he hissed quietly into Merlin's ear. He got a shrug as a reply, and then they all walked into the room where both the royal family dined and the Royal Court met, where Uther was waiting for them in his throne. None other from the Royal Court were present, not even Gaius.

The guards forced Merlin forward and dumped him onto the floor at Uther's feet, and then turned and exited the room, closing the large doors behind them. Arthur immediately kneeled down and helped Merlin back to his feet, glaring at his father.

"Why have you ordered him here?" he demanded. "He's done nothing wrong."

"As far as I know," Uther responded. Arthur opened his mouth to reply, but was stopped by the raising of his father's hand. "You remember Oliver, don't you Arthur?" he asked. Arthur's eyes widened.

"The man who was convinced that he was the reason that I fell off my horse at age seven, and then fled Camelot because of the guilt?" Uther nodded once.

"He's returned." Arthur's eyes remained wide as a young man came out from around a corner, walking towards them all. Merlin's eyes widened in turn when he caught sight of the man, as did the man's when he caught sight of Merlin.

"You," Oliver whispered, staring intently into Merlin's eyes. Merlin stared back, despite how uncomfortable it was beginning to make him feel. Uther raised an eyebrow in confusion, looking from Merlin's face to Oliver's.

"You've met?" he questioned.

"Only briefly," Oliver answered, breaking the stare between him and Merlin to look down at Uther. The young warlock almost felt relief wash through him when Oliver released him from the ferocity of his green eyes. "We… bumped into each other earlier this morning." Oliver looked back over at Merlin, but the teenager flipped his gaze to the floor before he could be caught in the man's stare again.

"And what does his return have to do with Merlin's arrest?" Arthur pressed, looking back at his father, his eyes finally back to normal size.

"I never said your servant was arrested," Uther told his son. "And if the guards told you that, then they are mistaken."

"They didn't tell me that, but… you never send them for someone unless that someone is under arrest."

"Merlin is not under arrest. He's simply… required." Merlin's eyes widened again and he couldn't stop himself from looking back up at Oliver, who was still staring at him. Nothing had ever felt so strange to Merlin; it was as if Oliver was digging into Merlin's very soul, coursing through his very veins. The young warlock felt so small when he stared into Oliver's eyes, and he suddenly knew why he had felt so curious about him earlier in the armory.

"For…?" Arthur began to feel a bit irritated. His father normally never kept from the point for this long. Certainly not around his only heir.

"That is not for me to know," Uther responded. "Nor is it for you. Oliver was sent under order by his master, and it is not for you or your servant to question that."

"I do not allow Merlin to leave Camelot with this man," Arthur stated firmly, and Uther glared into his son's eyes. The king was on his feet in a second, and he moved so that his face was mere inches from Arthur's face. Their noses almost touched.

"I do not care about what _you_ do and don't _allow_, certainly about a simple servant boy. Oliver is and has been a friend of the Pendragon family for a long time, and you will not dishonor him like that, is that understood?" Arthur was still as he searched his father's eyes. Merlin had been released yet again, and now he was looking at what was going on between father and son. He saw Arthur's lips twitch, but it was still a moment more before he replied.

"Yes, father," he all but whispered; Merlin still heard the anger in his voice.

"Good," Uther hissed, turning to sit back down on his throne. "Your servant will go with Oliver and you will get a new one. If your servant returns to Camelot, he may return to his job, but if he does not, then you are to not insult Oliver, his master, or me about any of this." Arthur did not nod, and his response was acidic.

"Understood."

Uther turned to Oliver. "The boy is yours." Oliver nodded, then looked straight back into Merlin's eyes.

"He will not need any personal belongings," Oliver stated, and Merlin felt his stomach begin to form into a knot. No personal belongings, which meant no changes of cloths… which meant that whoever Oliver's "master" was did not have the intention of being civil to Merlin, and whatever they wanted with the young warlock couldn't be anything good.

"Then you may leave immediately," Uther told him. Oliver released Merlin and looked at the king.

"May I ask, my lord, if we may borrow two of your horses? I made my journey here on foot, and would much rather not have to do the same thing to return."

"Of course!" Uther exclaimed, getting to his feet. "I'll walk with you to our stables." He motioned for Merlin to follow them as they began towards the doors, and both warlock and prince walked after them. Arthur stayed precariously close to Merlin's side, their arms touching, as they made their way down the hallways and out into the courtyard. He leaned his head over fractionally, and Merlin perked up his ears. He heard Uther and Oliver conversing quietly up ahead, and he could tell that whatever Arthur was about to say, he wanted to take no chances of either of them hearing it.

"Oliver is a strange man," he whispered. "I was in one of my horse riding lessons when I was seven, and he was my instructor. My horse screeched suddenly, and reared up on its hind legs out of nowhere. I broke my leg and suffered very minor head injuries. Oliver was convinced that it was his fault that I was injured, and fled Camelot because of the guilt. We haven't seen him since, but even before the accident, he acted strangely. Be on high guard."

"I'm just curious as to what whoever his master is wants with me," Merlin hissed back at the same volume. Arthur didn't reply as they came to the stables, and Oliver chose two horses without even bothering to listen to what my father had to say about them.

While Merlin was forced to strap the saddles and reigns on and Uther was doing something outside the stables, Arthur walked over to Oliver. The young man smiled at the prince, his deep green eyes seeming to not have the same effect on him as they had on Merlin.

"You've grown so much since I've seen you last," he commented.

"Merlin will return to me, unharmed," Arthur ordered, completely ignoring what Oliver had just said. The young man smirked, but Arthur did not falter. "If he does not, I will hunt both you and your master down, and kill you both."

"Prince Arthur, you had best watch your tongue," Oliver cautioned, his green eyes piercing into Arthur's. "I had no idea you cared so much for your servant."

"He will return in three days," Arthur went on, as if Oliver had said nothing, "or I will find you, and strike you down." His eyebrow twitched in anger, and Oliver's mouth stayed twisted in his sadistic smirk. No further words were spoken as Uther came back into the stables at the same time that Merlin finished with the horses. Uther checked over his work, then grabbed the reigns of one horse and handed the other reigns to Oliver, and they all walked down to the entrance to Camelot.

"On the horse," Oliver said to Merlin, swinging his head towards the brown horse at Merlin's side. The young warlock looked at Arthur before hoisting himself up onto the saddle. Uther took Oliver's arm in his grasp as Oliver did the same to his, and they both smiled at each other.

"It was nice seeing you again, Oliver," Uther said to the man. "And, once again, it was not your fault." Oliver nodded, though the obvious disagreement still showed on his face.

"It was nice seeing you again, as well, King Uther," he replied, bowing his head in respect. Uther patted his shoulder a couple of times before allowing the young man to climb onto his own horse. Arthur, on the opposite side of the hose that his father was on, gained Oliver's attention.

"Three days," he hissed up to the man. Oliver smirked down at the prince once again, and Merlin didn't miss it from behind.

"Are you easily disappointed, sire?" Oliver asked quietly. "Because, even if you aren't, I promise to you that you will be when those three days come to an end."

Before Arthur could reply, Oliver kicked at his horse's sides with a loud, "Yah!", and he was off. Merlin gave one last look to Arthur, who returned it, before following after Oliver. Arthur felt Uther's hand on his shoulder, but didn't take his gaze off Oliver.

"I'll get you a new servant as quickly as possible," the king said, and then began back towards the castle. Arthur stayed still, staring into the trees where Oliver and Merlin were leaving to. He stared sternly at Oliver's back, and just before they escaped his view, Oliver looked back over his shoulder at the young prince and smirked yet again.

* * *

**A/N: So hopefully you guys are still having as much fun reading this as I'm having writing it, and I hope chapter three was to your satisfactory. Of course Uther just gave Merlin up; after all, he's _just_ a servant boy. ;)**

**Please, please, please leave a review and let me know what you think! Like it? Hate it? You have no idea? Let me know!**

**(( Claire ))**


	4. Chapter Four

**A/N: Sorry for the super long wait! School has been killing me recently. DX It's the end of the semester, so I've got lots of work and such to get done. Anyway... here's chapter four! Hope you like!**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

They had only been riding for a few minutes and Merlin already felt lost and confused. As soon as they had crossed out of clear vision of Camelot, Oliver had turned a hard right, ordering Merlin to follow him. When the teenager realized that they were going into the woods, and not on any sort of trail, he pulled on his reins and stopped his horse. Oliver immediately heard Merlin's horse stop, and stopped himself, turning his horse to face back at Merlin. He glared coldly at the young warlock.

"What do you think you're doing, boy?" he demanded acidly, all forms of the soft tones he'd had in Camelot gone.

"Um… where exactly are we going?" Merlin asked, his eyes slightly wide because of Oliver's new tone of voice. The young man's green eyes narrowed, seemingly darker than they were before, and Merlin shrank back slightly under the intensity of his gaze.

"To my master," Oliver stated, enunciating each syllable flatly. Merlin raised one of his eyebrows.

"I know that," he started, "but there's no trail."

"Why does it matter? I know where we're going. As long as that's true, you have nothing to worry about." Suspicion started creeping up inside the young warlock as he furrowed his brows.

"I think I do, actually," Merlin told him, pulling lightly on his reins and causing his horse to step backwards. Oliver's eyes hardened further, and after a moment of silence, he sighed and slid off of his horse.

"I fear you may be right," he murmured, stroking his horse's brown mane. He looked darkly over at Merlin as the young warlock's eyebrows rose. "_Byddwch yn dal i,_" Oliver commanded, and his dark green eyes flashed gold. Merlin had only time to widen his eyes before his entire body became suddenly still. He tried curling his fingers in on themselves, but his body was completely irresponsive. He found that he was able to move his eyebrows and eyes, and as he looked over at Oliver, he watched the man pull a length of rope out of one of the bags attached to the side of the saddle of his horse. He then walked over to where Merlin's horse stood calmly, its motionless rider watching him with narrowed eyes.

"What does your master want with me?" Merlin asked harshly, finding that the spell that Oliver had used hadn't been specific enough to restrain his mouth from moving.

"That knowledge will be presented to you when we arrive," Oliver answered simply, unlocking Merlin's fingers from the reins. He shoved the warlock's hands together and began wrapping the rope around his wrists. Merlin tried to think of a useful spell, but before he could, Oliver pulled the rope tight around his wrists, the rope digging into his skin already. About two feet of rope was not tied around his wrists, and Oliver tied it tightly to the front of the saddle, keeping Merlin attached to it.

"He will be pleased with my loyalty and perseverance," Oliver muttered smugly, tying off one last knot around the saddle. Looking over his work and making sure that Merlin was secured to the saddle, Oliver's eyes flashed gold again and Merlin immediately started pulling against the rope. Oliver laughed at him. "Do you honestly think I would tie those ropes loose enough for you to escape, little sorcerer?"

Merlin's eyes went wide and he started down at Oliver's smirking face. "Wh… what did you just call me?" he asked just above a whisper.

"I called you what you are. Don't act as if you didn't hear me." Oliver turned and walked back over to his horse, hoisting himself up into the saddle and making the horse walk back over to Merlin.

"Why do you assume that's what I am?" Merlin asked as Oliver grabbed the young warlock's reins, pulled them over the horse's head, and tied them to the front of his own saddle.

"I do not assume," Oliver stated harshly, tugging on the reins to make sure they were tightly around his saddle. "I know."

"How _could_ you know?" Merlin shot back, starting to get irritated. He continued pulling against the ropes, trying to remember a cutting spell, or any type of spell that could help him in this situation. His mind was so jumbled up at the moment that he was having a hard time thinking coherently.

"My master told me." Oliver began leading them through the trees, Merlin's horse being pulled along by the reins.

"And how could _he_ know something as confidential as that?" Merlin asked, the spell he was desperately trying to remember finally coming to mind. He looked down at the ropes binding his wrists together and securing him to his saddle, focusing his entire concentration on them. He wasn't paying any attention to whether or not Oliver bothered to answer his question. "_Tafell rhaffau hyn ac yn-_"

A hand came sharply across his face, making a loud slapping noise. Merlin let out a yelp of pain as his left cheek stung profusely, cutting off his spell. His hair was then yanked harshly, causing him to groan again, and his head was forced to look over to the side, where Oliver stared at him with his death-beckoning gaze. "I don't think you would want to try anything rash," he warned in a low, menacing tone. "I will make your life a living hell."

"You mean you don't plan to do that anyway?" Merlin hissed. Oliver simply let go of the warlock's hair and slapped him again across the face. He then turned his gaze down to the ropes around Merlin's wrists.

"_Dod yn anorfod,_" he muttered, his eyes going gold for a short second. The ropes corresponded by blinking gold briefly, and then returned to their normal state. Merlin failed to miss this, and he mentally groaned in horror. "And because you are just so annoying…" Oliver reached over and started tugging on Merlin's red neckerchief, folding it up until it looked like some sort of bandana.  
"…and so you don't get any cocky ideas." Oliver pulled the neckerchief up to the warlock's protesting mouth, and cut off his complaints with one tight tug of the knot at the back of his head. The sorcerer tied another knot over that one, to be completely sure that it wouldn't come undone, and then grabbed his reins again.

"You will soon learn, sorcerer, to not mess around with me or my master," Oliver said, and Merlin's attempted reply was all but a mess of incoherent muffles. The sorcerer smirked at his new prisoner, and then lightly kicked the sides of his feet into his horse's sides and led them off through the woods again.

* * *

Arthur jabbed his sword into the ground as yet another of his knights lost their footing and fell into the grass. He knew that everyone had their off days, but this was honestly pathetic.

"What has gotten into all of you?" he shouted, pulling Sir Raymon back to his feet. The prince looked at all of the bewildered expressions on his knight's faces, waiting for one of them to answer. Sir Leon was the one who stepped forward and offered the prince a reply, though it wasn't exactly one that Arthur was expecting.

"We could ask you the same thing, sire," the knights said, fingering his sheathed sword nervously as Arthur raised an eyebrow. "You're showing great… aggressiveness for this training session. Whenever Merlin is around, you're-"

"What?" Arthur interrupted. "I'm what? Come on then! Let's hear it!" The knights were silent and Sire Leon had seemed to find a fascination with a blade of grass. "You've made me curious, Sire Leon," Arthur pressed, taking a step towards the knight.

"Ever since Merlin left, my lord, you've been… harsher than usual," Sir Leon attempted to explain, tentatively looking up to meet Arthur's gaze. The prince's eyes stayed narrowed, but he didn't respond. Sir Leon took his silence as waiting for the knight to continue, and so he did. "We all understand what you're going through, but-"

"I'm not _'going through'_ anything," Arthur snapped, locking Sir Leon's lips immediately. "Merlin is simply my servant, and if an old family friend wants to borrow him, he can. My father will not stop him."

"But, sire…" Sir Leon began. "You are not your father."

Arthur's eyes widened at first, and then he narrowed them once again, walking over to put his face right up to Sir Leon's. "You will not disrespect me or my father, or you will find yourself in the dungeons," he hissed, his voice low and hard.

"My lord, I meant no disrespect," Sir Leon replied, dipping his head to try to prove what he said to be true.

"For your sake, I would hope so." With that, Arthur turned and walked back towards the castle, harshly yanking his sword out of the ground as he passed it. The knights stared after him, but not one of them dared to stop him.

Arthur threw his door open, startling the servant that was making his bed. The young man turned to the fuming prince, hands trembling. Tears already brimmed his blue eyes, and he bowed his head in Arthur's direction.

"I'm sorry your chambers have not been tidied yet, my lord," the servant apologized, his voice pleading. "I was-"

Arthur raised a hand, silencing the trembling servant. "It is no concern of mine what you were doing." The prince took a quick look over his room. "Besides, it _is_ cleaner than when I left it. Right now, I desire privacy in my chambers. You may take the rest of the day off."

The servant boy looked at Arthur in shock, but then smiled and bowed his head again quickly. "Oh, thank you, sire! Thank you! I will not disappoint you again!" Arthur stopped the servant by pressing his hand to the young man's shoulder as he passed by the prince. They locked gazes, the servant's own suddenly terrified again.

"I am not disappointed," Arthur told him after a moment of silence. He was tempted to give the fearful young man a smile, but kept to his usual poker face. The servant lightened up at his comment, nodding once with a small grin of his own. "Now go," the prince said softly, lowering his hand from the servant's shoulder. The young man dipped his head once more before ducking out the doors, closing them both behind himself.

Arthur walked over to the window that faced the woods that Merlin and Oliver had ridden off towards. His eyes narrowed as the image of his old horse riding "coach" came back to his mind. He'd give anything to know what Oliver's master wanted with Merlin, and he'd kill to know who Oliver's master even was.

He was frustrated – not only at Oliver and whoever his master was, but at his father. He understood that Merlin was just another disposable servant to King Uther, but to Prince Arthur… Merlin was a friend. He was someone that Arthur could talk to about almost anything. He was the one person who knew Arthur's true feelings for Guinevere, and how honestly and utterly the prince regretted letting Morgause disappear with Morgana. He was the one and only person who talked to Arthur as just Arthur, as if there was no difference in rank between them. The prince would never admit how much he respected that – he had a reputation to protect.

A knock on his door brought him back to reality. He didn't move an inch as he called, "Enter", remaining leant back against the wall with his arms tightly across his chest, his gaze locked on the trees. He barely heard his visitor enter his room.

"Excuse the interruption, sire, but I wondered if you had an idea as to where Merlin has gotten off to?" the unmistakable voice of Gaius asked. Arthur turned to face the elderly physician when he heard this.

"You haven't been told?" he asked, surprise in his voice. Gaius' eyebrows rose, and the prince saw fear enter his eyes.

"What has happened?" Gaius inquired, his voice quieter and full of fear.

"Do you remember Oliver?" Arthur asked, noticing immediately how much acid came out of his mouth when he spoke the man's name.

Gaius' face became instantly horrorstruck. "Yes, sire, I do."

"He came to Camelot, asking to borrow Merlin for his master, who he refused to identify." Arthur turned his gaze to the floor as his hands clenched into fists. "I got a bad vibe as soon as Oliver stepped into my sight, and it only worsened when he said what he did before they left."

"May I ask what it is he said?" Gaius asked, his voice hesitant now. Arthur looked back into the physician's horror-filled blue eyes.

"I told him that if Merlin was not returned to Camelot in three days, that I would hunt him and his master down and kill them both. Just before he left, he asked me if I got disappointed easily, and without even giving me time to answer, he said that when those three days are up I will be disappointed no matter what. I have a feeling that whoever his master is doesn't intend on returning Merlin to Camelot."

Gaius' eyes were wide by now, and Arthur could see the horror still in place.

"I fear you may be right," Gaius whispered, just loud enough for Arthur to heard.

"You're agreeing with me so soon…" Arthur stated in surprise. "I was expecting you to say something about not judging that man without knowing his true motives first."

"His true motives are what worry me," Gaius murmured. The elder began moving towards the prince, urgency now in his eyes. "He's a sorcerer, Arthur. He was when he first resided here and I'm sure he still is."

Arthur's eyes were wide. "How do you figure?"

"He came to me for guidance – at the time, he was just as afraid of magic as Uther. The day you fell off your horse… He was still a novice in the magical arts, and he was not fully in control of his powers yet. I warned him to be careful…"

"His sorcery caused the accident?" Arthur asked quietly.

"Accidentally," Gaius confirmed with a nod of his head. "He fled Camelot because of the guilt and the fear of what he had done."

"This information makes me all the more curious… and suspicious," Arthur said, lifting his hand to cup his chin. "And confused – what does a sorcerer want with _Mer_lin?"

Gaius mentally gulped. "I don't know, sire, but I'm not sure it's anything good."

"I have to go find him," Arthur stated determinedly, turning towards the table where he had thrown his sword down. Gaius moved with him.

"Sire, I could be wrong," the physician tried to tell him. "Maybe this is a good thing. Oliver was a good man, after all-"

"Oliver wasn't the one who wanted Merlin!" Arthur yelled, turning on Gaius. The elder stopped, surprised. "He was simply the receiver for whoever his master is! And if Oliver is magic, my best guess is that his master is too!"

"But not all magic is evil, sire," Gaius told him, voice staying calm. Arthur's eyes widened. "I'm not saying that I do completely trust Oliver, or whoever this master of his is, but I'm also not sure if what they want with Merlin is bad or good. I haven't enough information."

"And you will never know if I don't go and try to figure it out," Arthur said, voice softer than earlier. They stared at each for a moment, and then Arthur turned and walked to the table. He picked up the leather belt, wrapped it around his waist, and then strapped his sword to the side of the leather, making sure it as secure before moving towards the doors.

"Arthur, I don't think your father will allow-"

"I could care less about what my father does and does not allow," Arthur spat. Gaius was taken aback at Arthur's tone – the prince rarely questioned his father openly.

"My lord…" Gaius began.

"Do you want to be sure of Merlin's safety, or not?" Arthur asked, facing towards the doors with his back to Gaius.

"Of course, but-"

"Then you will cover for me?"

Gaius felt surprised when it came out of Arthur's mouth as a question. He wasn't going to force Gaius to do anything… he was pleading.

After a moment of silence, Gaius answered, "Yes." Arthur nodded his head once before pulling his door open. He stopped before exiting, still not facing the physician.

"Thank you, Gaius," he murmured, relief in his voice, and then he left.

* * *

**A/N: I have so much fun coming up with spells and translating them and such. XD And I just keep waiting for Merlin's neckerchief to be used against him in that way! I mean, it's just there, begging to be used against him! So, I just had to include it in here, lol.**

**I hope you enjoyed! I'll try my best to get chapter five up in better time. XP I've got another fic idea swimming around in my head right now, so hopefully that'll be put into story form here shortly.**

**Please review! It makes my day whenever I see a new review posted on my story! ^^**

**(( Claire ))**


	5. Chapter Five

**A/N: Alrighty then! I'm back! Happy ((early)) Valentine's Day, everyone! ^^ And sorry for the bit of a wait... life's been real busy lately. XP And something to keep in mind while reading this chapter... all of this chapter is happening at the same time. Like, at the beginning of each new POV, it starts again where the POV before it started. So everything happening with the character in this chapter is happening at the exact same time. Just... keep that in mind. XD**

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**Chapter Five**

She had had it again. The haunting image of Merlin's agonized face penetrated her mind as she attempted to sleep. The same woman stood over him, the same sick smirk plastered on her beautiful face. Her bright blue eyes seemed to burn into Merlin's dirt-coated skin. She raised her hand and aimer her open palm towards Merlin's motionless body. Her hand glowed white…

That was when Morgana had woken with a gasp.

She still refused to tell Morgause, though she knew that she should. Her sister would just remind Morgana of what Merlin had done to her back in Camelot, dismissing the prophetic dream completely. Morgana was always aware of what Merlin did to her, but she also knew that Merlin hadn't wanted to. The pain had been too clear on his tear-streaked face as he had held her close, listening to her desperately trying to gasp in the air she needed. Morgause hadn't been there when the actual poisoning had happened – she didn't witness Merlin's hopefully true remorse.

Morgana wished she could forget Merlin and wish death upon him like her sister did, especially since he still supported King Uther and Prince Arthur, the two people she wished death upon more than anything. But some part of her felt as though Merlin had actually understood what she went through while discovering her magic. She knew Merlin didn't have magic and didn't know what she had felt and had been thinking, but something about how he had attempted to help her by telling her about the Druids… He had honestly worried for her. Or, she liked to believe he had anyway.

Things had been a bit awkward between her and Morgause the previous afternoon, as Morgana's mind had been wrapped around her nightmare. And though her head still was now, she attempted to return the comfortableness that was usually present between the two of them. She had invited Morgause on a walk, and they now walked in the shade of the trees, hidden from the sun. Morgause took the opportunity to teach Morgana some of the calmer spells in the world of magic. With a quick movement of her lips and a flash of her eyes, a patch of white lilies sprouted up from the ground.

"It's not a very helpful spell when you have plans such as ours, but it's knowledge you should still have," Morgause told her, and Morgana gave her sister a small smile. Morgause stopped walking and looking at Morgana in confusion. Morgana returned the look. "Is everything all right, sister?" the blonde sorceress asked, concern in her voice, as she lifted a hand to cup Morgana's cheek. A smile came to Morgana's face almost immediately, and she nodded.

"Everything's fine," she assured her sister. She should have known that Morgause wouldn't have up so easily.

"You've been quiet these past two days, and you've been spending a lot of time in your rooms. Are you sure-"

"I'm fine, sister, really," Morgana pressed smoothly. "I've just been a bit tired is all…"

As soon as the words left her mouth, Morgana wished she could take them back. Being tired meant that she wasn't getting enough sleep, and not getting enough sleep meant something was bothering her attempts at slumber. She knew where Morgause's mind would automatically go, and bit tongue when she noticed her sister's brown eyes flick down to Morgana's right wrist.

"You've been wearing your healing bracelet, have you not?" Morgause asked her, looking back up to meet Morgana's eyes.

"Yes, yes, of course I have," Morgana responded, subconsciously moving her left hand to clutch her right wrist.

"Tell me what's been troubling you, sister," Morgause said, taking Morgana's hands softly in her own. Everything was quiet as Morgana contemplated over what to tell her sister. The repeating nightmare held many prospects of interest, but only one stood out that Morgana knew she could say without giving anything about Merlin away.

"I just… I keep seeing an image of a mirror, and a small stone table with a silver goblet on top in front of the mirror. A young woman always appears in the mirror, and I always wake up when she does. I don't know why…"

To Morgana's surprise, Morgause smiled.

"Describe this woman," Morgause told her sister.

"She, um… had on a long reddish-purple dress, long dark hair, pale skin, incredibly bright blue eyes…"

Morgause laughed. "In the mirror?" Morgana nodded, too confused to form any words. "And you're sure there was no one else there? Outside the mirror?" Morgana nodded again. Morgause silenced her laughter and put a hand on Morgana's shoulder. "Let us hope it stays that way." She flicked her eyes down to Morgana's right wrist again, and then turned to walk back towards the old abandoned castle they stayed in. Morgana followed, her left hand locked around her bracelet, many questions swarming around in her head. Something about Morgause's reaction told her that Merlin was in even more trouble than she thought.

* * *

Merlin almost found it funny how Oliver thought that just by restraining his hands and covering his mouth that Merlin would give up trying to escape. He had a small branch hovering down by his tied hands and, as quietly as he possibly could, continually chipped away at one of the ends with quick, invisible slashes of magic. Oliver frequently looked over his shoulder to check that Merlin wasn't trying anything foolish; he never noticed the branch that the young warlock chiseled away at, though Merlin was always sure to stop his efforts when his captor looked at him, knowing just how noticeable the continuous golden flashes of his usually blue eyes would be.

When Merlin thought that he had gotten the stick sharp enough, he carefully moved it down towards the rope around his wrists, flipping his eyes up to Oliver every few seconds. He could almost feel the rope sliding from his wrists when the stick was but an inch from the restraint, and smiled under his own neckerchief. His smile instantly vanished, however, when the stick split in half at contact with the rope, a faint golden glow emanating from the rope for a brief second. Merlin's eyes narrowed and an agitated growl climbed in his throat.

"I would hope you understood the spell I cast earlier," Oliver said over his shoulder, not even turning his head to look at Merlin. The warlock's eyebrows rose as he looked at Oliver in shock. "Magic can not be hidden from another nearby sorcerer. Especially a sorcerer as nearby as me."

_I beg to differ,_ Merlin thought to himself, remembering too clearly how many times he used magic around Morgana and Gaius without them realizing it. He must have just heard the branch snap when it touched the rope…

"But that will not be bothering us for much longer," Oliver stated, smirking.

Before Merlin even had time to become confused, some kind of invisible force struck him, throwing his head back. A sudden high-pitched squeal rang through his head, and he grunted through his gag, squeezing his eyes shut. He brought his head forward and hung it against his chest, his eyes still shut. A short moment later, the squeal inside his head vanished abruptly, snapping Merlin's eyes open with its disappearance. With his eyes now open, he suddenly realized that his nails were digging into his palms with how tightly he clutched his hands. He looked up at Oliver, who was still facing forwards, leading both horses further through the woods. Merlin couldn't know if Oliver had noticed what had just happened, but by the way Oliver said nothing and acted as if nothing had happened, Merlin figured that his captor hadn't noticed. The warlock sighed unsteadily through his nose, unlocking his tightly clenched fists and stretching his fingers.

It had felt strangely familiar, and yet, at the same time, it had felt completely new. He knew that it had to have been something related to magic, as it had resembled the feeling he got whenever a magical object was used around or near him. He wondered if that was exactly what it was… if he was sensing the power from some sort of magical object or creature. He found himself hoping that this was not what it had been; whenever he had sensed a magical force before, it had never resulted in anything good. The only thing that he could think of was when Tauren had used his alchemy stone and gotten Gwen's father killed, and then almost the king as well…

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the awful memory. It had been Morgana's true turning point, which had lead to much worse hatred towards Uther and his kingdom. It had lead to him having to poison one of his closest friends… and then have to watch as Morgause had disappeared with her dying form… He knew that Morgana was alive and well now, somewhere out there, plotting with Morgause against the kingdom of Camelot, but he couldn't shake the feeling that it was partially his fault. If he had never told her to seek out the Druids… she never would have discovered her magic and maybe things could have taken a different course.

But he despised that idea. He knew that if it had been him in Morgana's position, he would have wanted someone to tell him what was happening to him and not to be left in the dark. How could he have denied her the chance, if he would have wanted the same thing? He wouldn't have been able to look her in the eyes ever again… not without feeling the hypocrisy deep within himself. She had deserved to know, no matter the repercussions. He was protecting Camelot now; he would not let the kingdom fall under any circumstance.

Merlin hadn't realized how long they had been travelling until he looked up and saw that the sky was beginning to darken. It looked to be the beginning of twilight, as the sky was no longer light but not quite yet dark. It was darker where they were, with the trees blocking much of the light from the sun, but Merlin could see where they were going.

And he could clearly see the flickering lights of fire up ahead.

* * *

It hadn't been the easiest task to get out of Camelot without his father knowing, but he tried not to think about the poor stable boy whom he'd had to bribe with gold coins not to tell anyone. He had told the stable boy to meet him with his horse by the old grate in the dungeons… the same one that he had helped the Druid boy, Mordred, escape out of all that time ago. He'd rode off from there, leaving the stable boy with a small pouch of gold coins, and told him that if anyone asked to tell them that the prince had gone off to meet the group of knights that had gone scouting the day before.

What Arthur hadn't thought of was the fact that he had no idea where Oliver intended on taking Merlin. He knew that the two of them had ridden off down the path at the entrance of Camelot, and so he had carefully circled around to get to that path. Doing this without any guards noticing him had taken him quite a bit of time, but he had managed it and was now riding down the path.

He pulled on the reins suddenly and forced his horse to an abrupt stop, pulling out the pouch of water he'd brought along. He took a quick swig before unrolling his map, trailing along the path he was on with his finger; he didn't like that there weren't too many villages along the path until it entered Cenred's kingdom. And he especially didn't like the possibility that that was where Oliver's master was, and it sent shivers down his spine when the thought of Cenred being his master crossed his mind.

He rolled the map back up and slipped it into the bag hanging from the side of his saddle, and lightly kicked his horse's sides. The horse began trotting down the path, but when Arthur heard voices from up ahead, he stopped the animal again. From around a corner some yards ahead came the group of knights that had left to scout the day before. Arthur smacked his hand to his forehead, cursing silently to himself. He tugged on the reins, forcing his horse to turn to the right, and kicked into its sides. The horse galloped into the trees on the side of the path, and Arthur only stopped it when they were a good twenty feet from the pathway.

"Keep going, keep going, keep going," he muttered quietly under his breath, watching the bright red capes get closer and closer. He couldn't believe how incredibly bright and noticeable the capes were… no wonder they hardly ever went back to Camelot with much after a hunt.

The knights weren't in any sort of hurry, which meant that they had little to nothing to report, and they talked casually about some kind of upcoming party at the tavern. Arthur didn't understand what people found so amazing about that place… He'd been there only once, when he was ten, when his father had felt a sudden urge to have some beer with some mates in the classic setting of a tavern rather than the castle. Arthur had been curious, and had been allowed to tag along, though he got not a sip of beer. He hadn't seen his father that drunk since, and he considered himself lucky for that.

To Arthur's misfortune, the knights decided to pick this exact place to stop and give their horses a short break. Arthur knew that if he tried to ride off with his horse, the knights would notice and try to pursue him, and so he tied his horse to a tree and slid down to the ground to wait. He groaned in disgust when he realized how wet the ground actually was, and began to stand back up, but knelt down again when he noticed a hoof print in the soggy ground. He looked around himself and noticed that there was a whole trail of them coming from the same pathway, but a few yards away. The trail curved over to where Arthur was and then continued into the woods, and the weird thing was that it looked like there had been more than one horse.

It looked like there had been two horses travelling together.

He inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth, a small smile creeping onto his face. It had to have been Oliver and Merlin's horses that made the trail, and he was only so sure of this fact because of how fresh the tracks looked to be. He wondered why the ground was so soggy and muddy when the sun was shining brightly, but then realized that it had rained the night before and with the trees overhead, the sun couldn't reach the ground there.

He waited ten minutes until the knights got back on their horses and continued on back to Camelot before untying his own horse and hoisting himself up into the saddle. He sincerely wished that nobody had asked the stable boy anything about the prince, because the excuse Arthur had given him wouldn't be believable now that the very knights he said he'd ridden off to find were returned. He hoped that Gaius would be able to come up with some kind of reasonable excuse if he were approached by anyone… especially the king.

Gripping the reigns tightly, Arthur lightly tapped his horse's sides and it began moving through the woods slowly. Arthur kept his eyes locked on the trail, following it as best he could in the darkness of the trees. His entire focus was on the hoof prints, until his horse moved a branch aside with its head and it snapped back to whip Arthur in the face. He grunted at the harsh contact, cursing under his breath once again while giving the back of his horse's head a dagger-filled glare, before returning his focus to the trail he was following.

The trail became fainter and fainter as time wove on, the ground slowly and gradually drying in the faint beams of sunlight that broke through the trees. And after about two hours, he could barely see the ground at all. He looked up to see that the sky was more pink than blue, and groaned to himself. If it got any darker, he wouldn't be able to follow the trail further, but if he waited until morning, the trail would likely be gone. He put his hand to his forehead and slid it down his face in exasperation before finally sliding off of his horse and grabbing his supplies. If the trail was no longer going to be seen either way, he wanted to get his camp set up before it got any darker.

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**A/N: Whoo! Man, that is one of the only chapters in a story that I have written with such little dialogue! It's not easy to write that way, let me tell you. Lol.**

**So I hope you enjoyed it! A little mysterious stuff goin' on with Morgause, Oliver trying to pass himself off as a more powerful sorcerer than he really is, Arthur sneaking around and out of Camelot and getting hit in the face with a branch... yeah, some pretty interesting aspects goin' on in this chapter! XD**

**Chapter six will be up hopefully soon! I'm having a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you're having fun reading it! Please leave me a review letting me know if you are! ^^ The more reviews I get, the faster I update! They really do help with inspiration!**

**(( Claire ))**


	6. Chapter Six

**A/N: Hey ya'll! Sorry it's been a little bit of a wait. I was working on getting my other _Merlin_ story up and then I got caught up in a bunch of schoolwork, and then I got sick, and I still am sick right now. XP I worked all day on this chapter, literally, and so I hope my work paid off!**

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**Chapter Six**

They approached an area of the forest where the abundance of trees thinned, but it was not quite a clearing. Large tents were set up in all different areas, some tied to the trunks of trees and some standing by their lonesome. Many men of all different shapes and sizes, most of them large and muscular, sat outside around several campfires spread out among the campsite, and Merlin tried his best not to look into any of their eyes as Oliver led his horse through the camp. Some were leather-clad while others wore furs and rags, and some of the men even happened to have somehow gotten their grimy hands on some chainmail. Skinny metal poles were also positioned throughout the area, each with its own flame flickering on top.

As they passed another of the surrounded campfires, Merlin saw one of the men rotating a rabbit on a stick over the flames, and the young warlock suddenly felt his stomach growl, remembering how long it'd been since he'd eaten anything. His mouth suddenly felt bitter behind his neckerchief and his throat felt dry, deprived from any liquid for hours. He tried to ignore the dryness of his throat and the constant rumbling of his stomach as Oliver seemed to lead him towards one tent in particular.

It was a large tent, like the others, but something about it differed from the rest of the camp. It had two of the more muscular men standing on either side of the entrance, each obtaining a sword in their belt and a spear in their hand. Both wore only pants and boots, their large, bare chests revealed to the cool night air, and both were bald. They had the sternest and most serious of faces as they continued to stare forward, not even seeming to notice the sorcerer and his captive as they rode up in front of them.

Oliver stopped his horse, causing Merlin's horse to stop in turn, and fiddled with something in his lap for a second. Merlin stared up at the tent as Oliver dismounted his horse and slid his sword out of the sheath attached to the side of his saddle and slipped it into his belt. He walked over to Merlin, checked the rope around his wrists, and then turned to walk into the tent with a small smirk on his face. Merlin was allowed a quick glimpse into the tent as Oliver brushed past the entrance, and all that was revealed to the young warlock were flickering shadows dancing on the walls, emitted from what looked to be fire, and the corner of a wooden table. The ground was carpeted, the color matching the rest of the reddish-orange tent, and Merlin could have sworn he saw a couple of pillows on the ground.

Despite how thin the material of the tent looked, Merlin could hear no sounds coming from the inside, not even the crackling of the fire he had seen flashes of. He settled with the solution that Oliver must have cast some sort of spell on it, or maybe another of the men in the camp had, to make it soundproof. As the thought of any of the men surrounding him containing magic crossed his mind, Merlin's eyes locked with the deadly pair of one of the bald, shirtless guards. A cold stare was shared between them before Merlin forced himself to look away out of both fear and awkwardness. He fixated his gaze on Oliver's horse chewing quietly on the branch of a nearby tree.

Only a few moments later, Oliver reappeared from within the tent, walking towards Merlin's horse. The warlock stayed completely still, his gaze only moving when he felt the rope around his wrists being played with. He looked down to see Oliver untying the rope from around the front of the saddle, and once it was unwound, he kept it tightly in his grip while he looked Merlin in the eye. He didn't say a word, only jerking his head down towards the ground, and Merlin hesitated before releasing his right leg, the leg on the opposite side of the horse from Oliver and the tent, from its stirrup. He swung it over the top of his horse before also releasing his left leg, and then attempted to smoothly slide down onto the ground. However, his left leg got caught in its stirrup, and he fell onto the ground in a hard face plant. The two guards showed their first signs of emotion by both chuckling darkly at the clumsy teenager, while Oliver merely rolled his eyes.

"Hard to believe you're the one he wants," he muttered under his breath. He tugged on the rope harshly, forcing Merlin onto his knees, and bent down to become level with him. "My master is right through there, and he will not be afraid to knock some sense into you if you behave disrespectfully. So don't believe that just because you're off that horse, that what I said earlier does not still stand." Merlin raised an eyebrow, causing Oliver to lean in closer to his face. "Do not… try… _anything_," he hissed threateningly, his eyes narrowing darkly. He then yanked on the rope and pulled Merlin harshly back to his feet before proceeding to pull him towards the entrance of the tent. The rope seemed to tighten around his wrists with every tug, and he noticed the skin around the rope was beginning to become red and raw. He felt his magic swirling around inside him, begging to be used to free himself, but he had heard the spell Oliver had cast on his restraint. Merlin knew that even if he tried to use magic on his bonds, it wouldn't work.

Oliver brushed past the cloth that served as some kind of door, and as Merlin passed into the large tent, he felt a wave of magic wash over him, as if he had walked through an invisible wall of enchantment. All sounds from outside were no longer able to be heard, and all he could hear was the crackling of the fire in the middle of the tent. His eyes wandered around the room, taking in all of his surroundings. The inside wasn't at all as big as it looked like it would be from the outside; in all honesty, it was no bigger than his own bedroom back in Camelot. The only furniture present was a wooden table at the far end of the room, one wooden chair behind it, and some pillows and blankets strewn across the floor. Various swords and other weapons decorated the walls, and Merlin felt his eyes slightly widen at the sight of so much weaponry. His eyes finally rested on the figure sitting in the chair behind the desk, but their face was blocked by their feet, which were propped up on top of the desk.

Oliver let go of the rope and moved back towards the entrance, eyeing Merlin icily. Merlin didn't turn to see where he was going or what he was doing, but was caught by surprise when he heard the familiar sound of a sword being drawn. He couldn't stop the shivers from crawling up his spine when he felt a blade press into his back, but he forced away the instinct to defend himself and fight back, fighting the urge to use his magic.

The blade pressed harder into his back, and Oliver muttered, "Go" from behind. Merlin took a tentative step forward, and when the blade's pressure didn't lessen, he took another. Only when the blade was removed did he stop, and then he felt a firm hand on his shoulder, which he guessed belonged to Oliver. He had only a moment to process these thoughts before he was harshly forced down onto his knees. Oliver slid his sword back into his belt before walking over to stand against the wall to Merlin's right.

"So." The voice was deep, demanding, and in no way friendly. The legs moved off of the desk to reveal the face of a man that was not old but not young either. Merlin decided to guess that he was in his thirties at least. Atop his head sat a mop of messy black hair, growing down to his neck and parted directly down the middle. He was leather-clad like half of the men that had been sitting outside, he was muscular while not very big or thick, and he had no facial hair, which gave off an even younger look.

And he was tall. Just by looking at him when he pushed himself to his feet, Merlin could tell that he was a couple of inches taller than the warlock. A sword was strapped to the side of his belt and another to his back, concreting the menacing vibe he was obviously trying to give off.

"It seems you were useful after all," the man stated, looking briefly over at Oliver. The sorcerer merely threw him a glare, nodded once, and then leant back against the wall and crossed his arms across his chest. The man moved out from behind the desk and walked towards Merlin, who was staring up at him through confused and guarded eyes. The man kneeled down in front of Merlin, looking him right in the eye, and then reached forward and grabbed the warlock's chin tightly, turning his face side to side. Merlin held as still as he could, despite the fact that his magic was flaring up inside of him.

"I told you I would get him to you – good to know you doubted my word," Oliver commented heatedly, his green eyes narrowed. The man turned his head to glare over at where Oliver stood, keeping Merlin's chin in his grip.

"You have failed me before, Oliver," he told the young man. "Is it any surprise that I would have some doubt about you being able to fulfill my request?" Oliver refused to reply, though his gaze hardened further. The man turned his attention back to Merlin, who was still staring right at his face, and released the warlock's chin with a small smirk.

"Well then, I suppose you're wondering where you are and what we want with you," he mused. Merlin's eyes narrowed subconsciously, and the man in front of him laughed as he stood back up. "I guess I'll start with an introduction – my name is Kadwyn, and this is my renegade camp. Oliver here is my second in command, though, how he's held onto that title, I don't even know." Oliver's face twisted into an aggravated scowl. "And our main purpose for… existing… is merely to collect our pay where it's due. So, if you're a smart lad, you will have already figured out that _we_ don't need you for anything."

At first, Merlin felt confused, but then what Kadwyn said suddenly made sense. These men weren't after Merlin because they needed _him_… they were doing someone else's dirty work because they wanted the _money._ If he was completely honest with himself, Merlin didn't know how to react to the news that someone had bothered to put a bounty over his head, and he couldn't even begin to guess who _would_ bother. It was usually Arthur who had to deal with this kind of stuff.

Kadwyn smirked as the realization dawned on Merlin's face, walking back towards his desk. He walked around to stand behind the wooden chair, folded his arms on top of the back of it, and then rested his chin on top of his arms.

"So now I suppose you're wondering _who_ would have placed a bounty over your head and _why_," he continued, seeming to be enjoying himself. Merlin pushed all other thoughts away and looked up at Kadwyn almost expectantly, waiting for the answer to come out of the man's mouth. "Well, if I just told you, that would be no fun, now would it?" he said, smirking yet again. Merlin bit his lip behind his gag to keep from making any sort of aggravated sound. His magic was swirling around inside him, looking for any way to lash out at the lather-clad man that stood before the warlock.

"We'll be setting out midday tomorrow," Kadwyn instructed, lifting his head and turning his gaze to Oliver. "Make sure the men know not to change their position. We'll be returning not too long after." With only one curt nod, Oliver exited the tent, leaving Merlin and Kadwyn completely alone. They both looked into the other's eyes, though Merlin's were more full of curiosity while Kadwyn's were full of accomplishment and evil.

Everything was silent as Kadwyn took his seat in his chair once again. He propped his legs back up on the table but made sure he wasn't hidden from Merlin's sight this time. He continued staring down at the restrained boy, and he couldn't help but notice how still and quiet he was being. Despite the rag covering his mouth and rope binding his wrists, the boy was being oddly cooperative. He wasn't yelling through his gag or pulling at his restraints… he sat perfectly still, on his knees, glaring into Kadwyn's eyes with as much intensity as Kadwyn glared into his.

"…So I suppose your magic is acting up right about now, isn't it?" Kadwyn questioned, and he smirked again when Merlin's eyes widened and something of a shocked gasp came through the gag. Kadwyn laughed when the warlock flicked his gaze away from his captor's eyes and fixated it on the floor instead. "Yes, I know of your talents, little magician. And so does the person who has placed a bounty over your head." Merlin looked back up into Kadwyn's eyes. "Sticky little situation you've gotten yourself into now, isn't it?" the man asked mockingly, laughing again.

The person knew he had magic… so that narrowed it down dramatically. Merlin didn't care about Kadwyn's pointless mocking and laughing as he racked his brain, trying to remember any and everybody who knew about his magic. Gaius, his mother, Nimueh, Lancelot, Mord-

Nimueh. Memories of the nightmare Merlin had had two nights earlier came flooding back as the sorceress' name crossed his mind. He found it hard to believe that within two days of him having a nightmare like that, that someone would come looking for him because a bounty had been placed over his head by a mysterious person who somehow knew Merlin's deepest, darkest secret to be some kind of coincidence. But he couldn't convince himself that it _was_ Nimueh – she was dead! He had killed her himself!

Confusion swept over him as he struggled to fit all of the pieces together. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore, and he heard himself groan at the irritating feeling of not understanding what was going on.

"What was that?" Kadwyn asked, looking down at Merlin. The warlock looked up at his captor's amused face once again. "Are you trying to say something, sorcerer?"

Without another word, Kadwyn stood from his seat and walked back over to where Merlin knelt, kneeling down in front of him again. A silent stare was shared between them for a short moment before Kadwyn reached forward and lowered Merlin's neckerchief from his mouth to let it sit around his neck once again, but he didn't unroll it. Merlin took in a few breaths through his mouth, and looked Kadwyn up and down in confusion.

"…why did you do that?" the teenager asked.

"Would you like me to replace it?" Kadwyn responded. Merlin shook his head, resulting in another smirk from his captor. "I didn't think so. Now then… what were you trying to say?" Merlin tried to think of a quick response, but before he could, his stomach growled rather loudly. He closed his eyes in exasperation and slight embarrassment while Kadwyn threw his head back with laughter. "The sorcerer is hungry!" he bellowed within his laughs. Merlin opened his eyes into annoyed slits.

"And am I to believe that you'll actually feed me?" he asked quietly, swallowing his rising magic. Kadwyn's laughter died down and he gave Merlin a small scowl.

"Of course I'm going to feed you, you twit," he hissed. "You would be no use to us dead. You've been requested _alive_."

"Good to know…" Merlin murmured quietly, turning his gaze to the floor once again. It really wasn't good to know; whoever was willing to pay for his capture probably wanted him alive for one reason: torture. That was the only reason he could come up with, anyway.

Oliver came back into then, and the first thing he noticed was Merlin's neckerchief back around his neck. "Are you mad, Kadwyn?" he hissed, rushing over to where the two men knelt. "He's a _sorcerer_!"

"As are we, Oliver," Kadwyn replied calmly, using his knees to push himself back up. Merlin lifted his head to look up at Kadwyn's towering body.

"'As are _we_'?" he asked. Kadwyn looked back down at the warlock, and gave him a small grin.

"Ah, so you do catch onto things, do you?" he mused. "Yes, little sorcerer, both Oliver and I have magic, just like you. Which means you'd best behave or your situation just might become even stickier than it already is." Merlin scowled and raised his eyebrows as Kadwyn walked past him, towards the exit. Merlin turned his neck to watch him walk over to another small table that Merlin had failed to notice earlier. Kadwyn picked up a small bowl full of green grapes and a plate with a slice of bread and a small piece of meat on it before turning to walk back over to where Merlin and Oliver waited.

"You're treating him more as a guest than a prisoner," Oliver complained as Kadwyn set the bowl and plate down on the floor in front of Merlin.

"Oh don't worry, Oliver," Kadwyn assured him, placing his hand on the sorcerer's shoulder. "Merlin understands that he's a prisoner here. And if he doesn't… he will in due time."

Merlin felt shivers creep up his spine again as Kadwyn spoke his name, but he ignored them as he grabbed the slice of bread with both of his tied hands and lifted it up to his mouth. He took one tentative bite before shoving the whole slice in, followed by the piece of meat. Kadwyn chuckled as he turned to walk back over to his desk. Oliver merely stood there, staring down at Merlin disgustedly as the warlock began picking off grape by grape by grape, tossing them into his mouth one after another.

Only five minutes later, the plate and bowl were both relieved of all of their contents, and Merlin sat still again, staring down at the floor. Oliver bent down to pick the dishes up and walk them back over to the smaller table near the entrance while Kadwyn lowered his legs from his desk once again.

"I suppose you're full now, then?" the man asked, smirking down at the teenager. Merlin refused to answer, but gave one small nod. "Very well. Oliver, take our prisoner to his very comfortable bed for the night." Oliver began moving forward, drawing his sword again. Merlin made a spur of the moment decision, turning his head abruptly in Oliver's direction.

"_Gwthiwch ef drwy'r awyr!"_ he shouted, his eyes flashing gold. Before Oliver could even react, he was shoved through the air and crashed into the wall of the tent. Merlin turned his head back around to face Kadwyn, who was already on his feet, and focused on the table. "_Crash i mewn ef!"_ he yelled quickly. He had to hold back his laughter as the table was suddenly yanked up into the air and flew right into Kadwyn, knocking him to the floor with the table on top. Merlin quickly got to his feet and turned towards the entrance, only to see Oliver already back on his feet, his sword held out towards the warlock.

"_Heddlu ef i'r ddaear!"_ the young sorcerer hollered, and Merlin suddenly felt an invisible force pulling him down to the ground. He tried to fight it, but he couldn't stop himself from lowering himself to the ground; first to his knees, and then down onto his stomach. He struggled to stand back up, and he racked his brain for another spell, but Oliver was already there, pressing his sword into Merlin's exposed back.

"My, my, we are a feisty one, aren't we?" Oliver murmured, and Merlin scowled into the floor.

The table was thrown across the tent, and Kadwyn got back to his feet. His hands were balled into tight fists as he walked over to where Oliver held Merlin down, and he hit Oliver's sword away from the warlock's back. Oliver immediately flashed his eyes, and Merlin felt the invisible force disappear. He began trying to get up, but Kadwyn pulled him by the back of his jacket. When Merlin was on his feet, Kadwyn brought his fist back and threw it as hardly as he could against Merlin's jaw. The warlock was instantly thrown back against the ground, and he could already taste the blood in his mouth.

"You just made everything stickier for yourself, boy," Kadwyn hissed threateningly. He kicked Merlin's side harshly, ignoring the gasp of pain that escaped the teenager's lips. "Don't say I didn't warn you," the man seethed before brining his leg back again. This time, his foot sunk into Merlin's stomach, and the warlock immediately began trying to gasp in the air he needed. Kadwyn knelt down, grabbed both of Merlin's tied hands in one of his, and picked him up, holding him up off the floor so that his legs dangled. Merlin still struggled for breath, and he struggled harder when Kadwyn threw his fist into the teenager's stomach before throwing him across the room and into the wall.

Merlin closed his eyes as he desperately tried to suck in the air he needed, wishing that it would just come to him already. Just when he finally regained control over his breathing, he used it to scream out in agony as Kadwyn harshly stepped down on his ankle with as much force as he possibly could. Merlin heard a sickening crack, and Kadwyn gave one last shove down on his ankle before relieving it of his pressure. Merlin instinctively curled both of his legs into his body, trying to feebly protect them with his arms. Kadwyn laughed at his pathetic attempt, gave him another kick in the side, and then turned back to Oliver.

"Get him out of my sight," he muttered. Oliver moved forward immediately, kneeling down to where Merlin lay. The young sorcerer could hear the teenager's ragged breathing and painful gasps every now and then, but he tried to pay it no mind. He lifted Merlin's head and pulled his neckerchief back up around his mouth, tying it tighter than it had been before. He then hoisted Merlin to his feet, resulting in a muffled cry of agony before the warlock fell down once again. Oliver glanced over at Kadwyn, who was staring maliciously down at Merlin's broken form, before kneeling down again and grabbing the warlock's tied hands. Ignoring the sounds of pain that came from underneath the gag, Oliver proceeded to drag Merlin out of the tent on his back.

The two shirtless guards both chuckled at Merlin's obvious state, and one of them even threw his own foot out to sink into Merlin's side as they passed. The other laughed at his partner's contribution, and the laughter followed Oliver and Merlin as the former dragged the latter away.

Oliver didn't drag Merlin too far from Kadwyn's tent, stopping at a small tree away from any of the other men and their fires and tents, but still in clear view of the entire campsite. Oliver then took out a dagger from his belt and cut the rope binding Merlin's wrists. The young warlock didn't even put up any sort of fight when his hands were freed from their restraint, and allowed Oliver to wrapped his arms around the tree without so much as a pull. Oliver unwound the rope that he carried around his belt and retied Merlin's wrists together behind the tree.

"_Dod yn anorfod,_" he muttered quietly. His green eyes flooded with gold as the rope blinked back at him, and then he stood up straight again. He tugged on the knot of the warlock's gag, making sure it was secure, before turning to walk away. He stopped a few yards away, turned back around to take in one last look at Merlin's crumpled form, and then returned to Kadwyn's tent.

He still struggled to get breath into his body, especially now that the gag had been replaced over his mouth again, but nothing hurt more than his ankle. It felt like it was fire, but at the same time, it felt completely numb. He didn't dare look down at it, afraid of what he might see, and so he kept his tired eyes closed. His sides and stomach ached, his head throbbed, his ankle burned, his wrists were raw, his jaw was sore… He didn't like the look of where things were going for him. Kadwyn obviously only cared about getting Merlin to his payer alive – he didn't seem to care about what state of "alive" Merlin was in.

Merlin kept his head rested back against the trunk of the tree and his eyes closed, welcome the cool night breeze that blew over him. He was full of pain, and he didn't know how he managed to do it, but he eventually slid into unconsciousness.

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**A/N: I end a lot of chapters and such with the whole "slid into unconsciousness" thing, don't I? XP Oh well, it's easy, lol.**

**Please review! They do help inspire faster updates! It's totally true! Just ask any author on this site! XD**

**(( Claire ))**


	7. Chapter Seven

**A/N: Alright, so you may have noticed that I changed the summary for this story. I was thinking about it a few days ago, and decided that the summary wasn't too much of a _summary_, so I decided to give you guys more of what a summary is. ^^**

**Sorry for the wait, again, but I hope you enjoy!**

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**Chapter Seven**

Arthur switched from his side to his back, from his back to his other side, and from his other side to his back once again. He opened his eyes in frustration and folded his hands over his chest, lacing his fingers together. He stared up at the branches roping across the star-infested night sky and couldn't help but think about Merlin; the clumsy oaf was exactly what was denying the prince his must-needed slumber. He hadn't gotten a wink of sleep since he settled down for the night almost two hours ago. His fire was still burning brightly, as he had occupied his open time by stoking it a couple of times already because of his restlessness. He was tempted to stoke the flames again at that moment, but decided that he needed to just sit for a moment and allow his mind to wander.

He wished that the last image of Merlin that he had been able to see had been the crooked grin that the prince often saw on the servant's face, instead of the worried look of uncertainty that the teenager had had before riding off with Oliver. Arthur had no idea if he would ever see his erratic friend again, and he wasn't comforted by the fact that that image of Merlin's face might have been the last he would have to remember the man by.

Arthur felt his eyes widen a little, and his breath caught in his throat. He had let the word 'friend' slip by in his mind all too easily, as if he referred to Merlin by that term on a day-to-day basis. He was so used to calling Merlin his manservant, both out loud and in his head, but as he thought about it, Merlin was more than merely his servant… and he had to get the idiot back.

With his mind set and his eyes refusing to close, Arthur was out of his bedroll and tying it back to the back of his saddle along with the rest of his supplies. He then smothered the crackling flames with some dirt, pounding it down with his foot before becoming satisfied. He hoisted himself back up onto his horse and, with two light kicks into her sides, they were walking through the trees again.

His bright blue eyes were kept wide as they darted back and forth, searching for any signs of a continuation of the trail he had found earlier. It was far too dark out for him to have even a hope of seeing any sort of foot or hoof prints in the ground, and he wasn't even sure if he was still going in the right direction that the trail had been leading in earlier. He had no idea if he was getting closer to Merlin or just walking further and further away from him. He figured he had no way of choosing a right or wrong way, and that the smartest thing to do was to just continue on in the direction he had been travelling in earlier, taking no turns whatsoever unless he had to.

He actually felt his eyelids beginning to droop after what he thought had been an hour, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to get very much rest with Merlin's predicament still on his mind. The boy didn't deserve to be in this kind of situation; usually it was Arthur who was in trouble and in need of help – he was the Prince of Camelot, for crying out loud! Merlin was just a… just a servant, to everyone other than Arthur, Gwen, Gaius, and Morgana.

A new wave of worry and regret washed through his very being as Morgana crossed his mind. Such an innocent soul with no ill intentions whatsoever… she didn't deserve to be in the situation that she was in at the moment either! Why couldn't Arthur have been there when Morgause had taken a hold of her? Why couldn't he have stopped her from casting some kind of knockout spell on Morgana? He was sure that's why the King's ward had been unconscious in the witch's arms when Arthur had come back to the Council Chamber. A pang of guilt hit him hard in the stomach as he remembered the vulnerability of Morgana's face as she lied helpless in Morgause's arms…

He shook his head, attempting to rid himself of the horrible memory. He would find both Merlin and Morgana and return them both safely to Camelot. Maybe not at the same time, but he would no matter what. He didn't know why they had been taken or where they were, but at least he knew by whom they were being held.

There was a sound to his right and he whipped his head to the side, stopping his horse. He perked his ears up and narrowed his eyes as he quietly slid out of his saddle, landing with a soft thud in the grass. He slid his sword out of the scabbard connected to his saddle and held it in a defensive position, making his way towards a nearby bush. He moved slowly and quietly, taking each step with caution, and when he approached the bush, he held his sword up so that it was right next to his cheek. He didn't move for a moment, as though he was waiting for something to happen, but suddenly he stabbed his blade into the bush, almost expecting to hear a cry of pain. When he heard nothing, he withdrew his sword from the leaves and moved closer. He peered around the bush and only let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when there was nothing behind the shrub.

As unexpectedly as a sudden case of hiccups, a dagger came flying towards him from behind. It grazed his left arm before stabbing into the trunk of a nearby tree, catching the prince completely off guard. He spun around on his heel, holding his sword up, and was met by the sight of two large, muscular men, both with no shirts but baggy pants that tucked into loosely laced boots. Both men had a sword in their belt, which they proceeded to pull out for use when Arthur turned to face them, and frustrated scowls on their faces. As Arthur prepared himself to fight them, one of them (presumably the more enforcing one, as he was in front of the other) lifted their scowl into an amused smirk.

"Well lookie here, Garan, the prince has come to save his servant," the large man mocked, and his partner's lips twisted up into a smirk as well. "I wonder just how far he's willing to go to get that boy back…" the man continued as Arthur merely narrowed his eyes.

"Let's see now, then, shall we, Rhydian?" the second man responded, holding his sword up. Arthur's gaze flipped back and forth between the two, but he didn't move his sword at all yet. These kinds of situations required strategy, and strategy required some amount of patience and thought. He had already been presented with the information that these two men knew where Merlin was being held, since that's what they automatically thought Arthur was doing out in the middle of the forest, so he had to do something to make them lead the prince to his friend.

Without any warning whatsoever, both men lunged at the prince, their swords at the ready. Arthur somersaulted out of their way, not allowing his back to be to them for more than a fraction of a second, and already had a clear shot at the one called Garan's back. He raised his sword up just as both men turned towards him again, and launched the blade through the air with as much force as he possibly could. Neither of the men saw it coming, and Garan sure wasn't expecting it when the blade tore through his exposed flesh. Rhydian watched his comrade fall to the ground before his expression angered and he turned back to Arthur.

"You're going to pay for that, whelp," he threatened, raising his sword. Arthur, again, said nothing, and merely narrowed his eyes. He waited for Rhydian to begin charging at him to move at all, and when he did move, he did exactly as he had before; he somersaulted out of the way. Rhydian wasn't so dumb to face away from Arthur again this time, but Arthur wasn't so dumb to believe that the man would. So when Rhydian ran up to Arthur's exposed back and raised his sword, the prince rolled to the side just as his attacker brought his sword down, and jumped to his feet as the blade sliced into the ground. Arthur yanked the dagger that had been thrown at him earlier out of the tree trunk that he rolled next to on purpose and hurled it towards Rhydian, pulling his sword out of Garan's back as the smaller weapon penetrated Rhydian's upper left arm. The man grunted in pain, releasing the hilt of his sword, and didn't notice Arthur jump behind him as he pulled the dagger out of his flesh. He was caught off guard when both of his legs were kicked from behind, bringing him down to his knees.

"You will stay still," Arthur ordered, pressing his sword against the man's back. At first, Rhydian gritted his teeth and made to grab his sword, but when Arthur pressed his blade hard enough into his back to draw blood, the shirtless man held back. "Now get down on your stomach," Arthur commanded, his voice deep and demanding. Rhydian did as the prince told him, a low growl rising in his throat as his face pressed into the still soggy ground. Arthur moved to grab his sword, swiftly pulling it from the ground and holding it, too, to the man's back, before kneeling down with one knee on the man's back.

"Tell me where he is," he instructed darkly, "or I will kill you right now." As if to prove that he wasn't lying, Arthur pressed the blades just a little harder into Rhydian's flesh. The shirtless man grunted in discomfort as he moved his lips out of the grass.

"You don't want to know, boy," he growled, his lip twitching. "My master will tear you to shreds if you even attempt to sneak into our camp."

"So it's a camp," Arthur gathered. "And judging from the fact that you and your accomplice are out in these woods in the middle of the night, I'm guessing you were scouting the area." Rhydian growled again. "Which means your camp shouldn't be too far from here…" Arthur became suddenly silent, looking intently into the dark trees.

"My master is relentless, prince," Rhydian hissed, attempting to look up at Arthur. When the prince didn't answer or acknowledge the man's attempted shift, Rhydian decided that giving the prince the information he needed wouldn't be a bad thing anyway. His master always got his pay where it was due… the crown prince of Camelot wasn't going to change that anytime soon. "You will not be able to retrieve your servant, no matter how hard you try." Arthur remained silent. "But if you wish to get yourself killed, the camp is straight ahead in _that_ direction," the man continued, gesturing with his head towards the very trees that Arthur's eyes had been locked on. "No matter if you know… you will not succeed."

A smirk found its way onto Arthur's face as he said quietly, "Thank you for your help." Rhydian snorted, waiting for the two swords' pressure on his back to disappear. He was completely caught off guard when both blades were shoved through his chest, stabbing into the ground beneath him. He gave a painful wheeze, and didn't draw in another breath. Arthur slid his bloodied blade out of the man's flesh, leaving the man's own sword sticking out of his back, and wiped it on the grass before sliding it into the sheath connected to his belt. He walked over to where his horse stood calmly, chewing at a branch of a tree, and tied the reins to one of the thicker branches. Once he was sure the knot was secure, he turned and walked past both of the fallen men and made his way into the trees.

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"I was told by the prince himself that he was going out to meet the group of knights that had gone scouting, sire!" the frightened stable boy cried, tightening his grip on the King's arm, desperately trying to release the man's hold on his neck.

Uther was infuriated as he shook the boy. "Stop lying to me, boy! The knights returned earlier today without the prince with them! Where has he gone?"

Tears sprung in the stable boy's eyes as his attempts to draw in air became more and more difficult. His legs squirmed around in the air as Uther held him up by his throat, not caring at all about the boy's feeble attempts to breathe.

"Sire, please-"

"Do not beg for anything from me!" the King shouted, throwing the boy roughly against the wall of the stable. "Tell me where my son is this _instant_!" The stable boy cowered under the King's intense stare and didn't hold back the tears that flowed down his cheeks, and Uther screamed at him again. Just as he raised his sword above his head and as the stable boy yelped in fear, Gaius entered the stable and stopped the scene in front of him.

"My lord, what are you doing?" he asked, rushing over to the two of them. Uther didn't lower his sword as he looked over at the physician.

"This… _boy_ will not tell me where Arthur has gone!" he yelled, and Gaius' eyes widened fractionally. He motioned for Uther to put his sword down, going to kneel by the traumatized young stable boy, but the King refused to do so. "My son is missing," he continued, "and this tyrant refuses to tell me the truth!"

"What if he doesn't know the truth, sire?" Gaius asked, looking up into the King's enraged blue eyes.

"He says that Arthur came to the stables for a horse this afternoon and told him that he was riding out to join the group of knights that went scouting yesterday," Uther explained, finally lowering his sword back to his side. "But this can not be the truth; those very knights returned to Camelot a few hours ago and said they hadn't seen the prince since yesterday before they left!"

"My lord, this is all just a big misunderstanding," Gaius tried to tell him. "I spoke with Arthur this afternoon and he told me that he was going out on a solo hunt. He had a bad day in training today and wanted to let off a little steam, that's all." Uther's wide eyes softened barely at Gaius' words.

"Then why is this boy telling me a different story?" he demanded. Gaius looked down into the frightened green eyes of the stable boy, tears still present in them, and then looked back up at Uther's face.

"I don't know," he said truthfully. "Perhaps he merely misheard the prince."

Uther stared down at the trembling stable boy for a short moment, and then sighed. "Very well," he said. "You have always been a trustworthy informant, Gaius." The physician nodded his head in the King's direction and then turned back to the stable boy.

"Go home now, young man," he told him quietly. "You are no longer needed here." With a few quick nods and bow towards the King, the stable boy got to his feet and hurried out of the stables. Gaius pushed himself back to his feet as well as Uther slid his sword into the scabbard at his side.

"You should not get so angry with boys at such a young age," Gaius advised him. "The poor boy was shaking more than was probably healthy for him."

"He lied to me," Uther stated, turning towards the exit.

"He did not know that he was lying," Gaius continued, walking at the King's side out into the cool night air. "He was told what he was by the prince. Arthur did seem a little worked up, perhaps he was speaking a bit too quickly when he told the boy what he did. And the look on your face probably made the boy too scared to remember coherently."

"I am the King and I will find out the answers I need in any way I possibly can," Uther said. Gaius sighed and decided to give up on that approach. The elder was just happy that he had been able to successfully cover for the prince while he was out searching for Gaius' ward, as well as save the young stable boy's life.

"Did Arthur tell you when he would be returning from his hunting trip?" Uther asked suddenly.

"Hm? Oh, he didn't give me any specific amount of time that he would be gone for. I don't think it should be any longer than a few days." _I sure hope it's not any longer than that…_ the elderly man thought to himself.

"Very well," Uther said as they entered the courtyard. "It would have been nice if he had told me where he was going."

"Yes," Gaius agreed. "He's just a bit upset about having to give Merlin up for an indefinite amount of time."

"I can't imagine why. The boy is merely a servant."

"My lord, he and Arthur have grown quite close over the past year or so. Have you not noticed? Arthur has been willing to give his life for Merlin on numerous occasions."

"Again, I can't imagine why. I know how important the boy is to you, Gaius, but I don't know why he is to Arthur." With a confused shake of his head, Uther climbed the steps at the entrance of the castle and walked inside. Gaius sighed and looked up to the starry night sky, wishing beyond everything else that Arthur and Merlin would return soon.

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**A/N: I had a lot of fun writing Arthur's part of this chapter. I was worried that he may seem a bit OOC, but I guess that's up to the reader to decide for themself. ^^; Also, I thought it was about time to let ya'll know what was going on back in Camelot. I feel bad for what I did to that poor stable boy - Uther is a jerk, is he not? Fun to write, though, if I'm honest with myself. XD**

**Please leave me a nice little review! I love to hear what you guys have to say! :)**

**(( Claire ))**


	8. Chapter Eight

**A/N: Well hey lookie here, I'm not dead! I am incredibly sorry for the long wait. Those of you reading my other story, _Crimson Catalyst_, already know this, but I've just been overly stressed with school lately and I've finally found time to sit down and write. I've still got a helluva lot to read and review, though, lol.**

**But here is the long awaited, overdue update for _Overcome_! Hope it satisfies you guys and was worth the wait! XD;;**

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**Chapter Eight**

It hadn't taken Arthur too long to reach the first of many tents, and he stayed crouched down as low as he possibly could be as he snuck through the surrounding bushes. Despite it being the middle of the night, many large men sat around crackling fires, laughing loudly and pouring some kind of liquid into their mouths. Arthur figured it to be ale or some other alcoholic beverage. He could hear both faint and loud snores coming from the tents and some men who had passed out around the fires, but some of them seemed to be trying to make certain that they would stay awake as long as possible. Probably watching guard, the prince figured.

He moved as quietly as possible, creeping through the shrubbery without his sword drawn. He kept his hand on his hilt, though, and his eyes and ears alert. He searched everywhere for his servant, but after half an hour of creeping and searching, the prince hadn't seen any sign of Merlin. A nervous feeling began to eat away at him as the thought of Merlin possibly already being dead crossed his mind. There was the possibility that he had been taken to try to get information about the prince and of Camelot out of him, and if he refused to give any – which Arthur could actually see him doing – his captors probably would have no problem in disposing of him.

The prince was about to give up and wait until morning, thinking that Merlin could be being held inside one of the tents and trying to sneak in was not an option with all of these burly men everywhere, when he spotted a rather thin man exiting a larger tent than all the others. Arthur squinted his eyes and tried to see the man's face, but the hood of his long dark cloak was pulled up as soon as he entered the cool night air. His cape brushed across the leafy ground as he made his way towards a group of men around a fire, and Arthur slumped back down with his hope, but then he became more alert again when the thin man suddenly turned away from the fire and the laughing men. Arthur watched as the man disappeared into the darkness of the trees beside the larger tent, waited for a few minutes, and then raised an eyebrow when the man returned into sight. The prince watched him look once more into the darkness that he had just come from before walking over to one of the smaller tents and entering it.

Arthur wasted no time once the thin man was out of sight. The prince was moving along the bushes quieter than he had ever moved through shrubbery on any hunt before. He circled around the larger tent, which was situated away from the colony of smaller tents and guarded by two large, shirtless men, and hid quietly behind it when one of the guards suddenly sneezed. The prince held still for ten seconds after the outburst before continuing on towards where the thin man had gone. He moved much slower than he had been when he entered the area of trees the man had earlier, as he had no more light from any fires or torches to guide him anymore. He continued forwards slowly, hoping that he wouldn't step on a twig or trip over a root, when he suddenly kicked something that resulted in a muffled groan. Arthur looked to his right, where the groan had come from, and squinted into the dark, trying to see.

"…Merlin?" the prince ventured, his voice barely a whisper. He got no response so he lowered himself down onto his knees and reached his hand out. His fingers made contact with the base of a neck, and he almost jumped in panic because of the absence of a certain neckerchief. But when he moved his hand up to a chin, he could feel a piece of cloth above it, as if it were covering a mouth…

The pieces suddenly began fitting together as Arthur moved his hand on top of the cloth, verifying that it was indeed covering a mouth. He then moved his hand up a little further but to the side, trying to see if he could find the very evident cheekbones that his manservant possessed. Moving his hand all over Merlin's face made the prince feel very awkward, but this was replaced with relief when he brushed across a very dominant cheekbone. He grabbed both sides of the person's face and shook their head from side to side, and was promptly kicked to the ground because of it.

"Merlin, stop!" he hissed, stopping the person's leg from swinging at him again. He could immediately feel the tenseness of the person's leg lessen when Arthur spoke that name, and the prince moved up closer to where the person's face was. "It's me, Arthur," he whispered. He could tell that the muffled sound he heard next was Merlin trying to repeat his name in shock. The first thing the prince did was pull the cloth away from his servant's mouth.

"Arthur?" Merlin tried again when his mouth was no longer restrained. Arthur nodded even though he knew that Merlin wouldn't be able to see it in the darkness. "What are you doing here?"

"What on earth do you think, _Mer_lin?" Arthur muttered, quietly sliding the dagger out from under his leather belt. "Your hands tied?"

"Uh, yeah. Behind the tree."

Arthur lifted his arm up carefully and felt for the tree, shoving Merlin's face to the side by accident. When he touched the bark he slowly moved around until he could tell that he was behind it and then felt around for Merlin's hands. This task was easier said than done, as he kept swatting at air. He finally grabbed the warlock's bound hands and lifted them up, causing Merlin to bite his lip and hold back a loud groan. Arthur carefully lifted his dagger, trying to find the rope around Merlin's wrist without cutting into the warlock's flesh on accident.

"There, you've got it," Merlin told him quietly, feeling the blade against the rope binding his hands. "Just… be careful, will you?"

"No, Merlin, the thought hadn't even crossed my mind," Arthur replied, beginning to slowly saw at the rope. In only a minute he had cut through and Merlin was rubbing his raw wrists and massaging his tired cheeks and chin. Arthur slipped his dagger back under his belt as he crawled out to where Merlin was sitting again.

"So tell me now… what the hell are you doing here?" Merlin whispered.

"Rescuing your sorry ass, that's what," Arthur replied, smirking in the dark. "I knew that something was up with Oliver when he told me that I'd be disappointed in three days, so I followed your trail and ended up here."

"Our… trail?" the warlock questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Your horse's hoofs left imprints in the ground because of how much it rained the other night. When it got too dark to see them, I was attacked by two men. I took them down easy and got information about where the camp was and… here I am."

Merlin smiled, though he wished Arthur could see it. "Thank you, Arthur, really. I wasn't expecting you'd show up."

"Thank you for having so much faith in me, Merlin," the prince responded. Merlin rolled his eyes. "Let's just get out of here before I do something rash," Arthur stated, beginning to crawl back towards where he'd just come from. Merlin attempted to follow him, but at just the first movement, his ankle screamed in protest. Arthur stopped and turned when Merlin made another groan of discomfort. "What's wrong?"

"It's my ankle…" Merlin started. Arthur's eyes widened.

"…they hurt you," he concluded instantly.

"Maybe a little…" Merlin admitted, softly rubbing circles on his ankle with his thumb.

"Whoever these men are, they'd better feel lucky that I came alone," Arthur growled, looking out towards the flickering of one of the fires beyond the trees. Merlin looked back up at where he supposed Arthur's face was.

"You're alone?" he asked.

"Of course I'm alone. I'm not stupid enough to go to my father and ask for Knights to rescue a servant that he specifically told me not to worry about."

Merlin smirked in the dark. "One of these days, Arthur, I'm going to get you to admit out loud how much you actually care about me."

"Keep dreaming, you oaf," the prince responded, though he grinned to himself. "Come on. Try to crawl without your injured leg."

Before they could even begin moving though, a flickering flame entered the dark trees from where the group of smaller tents was situated. The two young men didn't have to be geniuses to know that the torch was moving directly towards them, and that the person holding it was expecting to find a certain servant tied to a certain tree. As the flame grew nearer and nearer, Arthur dragged Merlin around to the other side of one of the larger trees, ignoring his whimpers of pain. The prince drew his sword as quietly as possible and held it up close to his face as he waited for whoever had the torch to figure out that Merlin was missing. He shifted his leg slightly to get in a better preparation stance, but was caught completely off guard when the hilt of his sword suddenly began to burn. He looked down and saw that the hilt was orange, as if it was on fire, and his hands were touching it. He tried to bite it back, but he couldn't stop a yelp from escaping his lips.

"I have been expecting you, Prince Arthur," a familiar voice said from the other side of the tree as Arthur dropped his sword to the ground and blew on his hands. "How predictable… I'm quite certain that if you knew the real reason as to why Merlin is here, you never would have left Camelot."

"I would have come under any circumstances, just because of what you said to me before you left," Arthur replied, grabbing his cooled-off sword as he stood up. He walked casually out from behind the tree and squinted his eyes against the sudden light given from the torch in Oliver's hand. The cloaked sorcerer smirked at him; the flickers of the flame dancing on his face were giving him an eerie look.

"I was merely telling you the truth," he responded. He glanced at something over Arthur's shoulder for a second before looking straight back into the prince's eyes, his smirk now a bit wider.

"You will be the one disappointed in two days," Arthur growled, holding up his sword threateningly. Oliver didn't move an inch, and he didn't seem to be frightened by the weapon in the prince's hands.

"Arthur…" Merlin's voice came from behind the prince and it sounded small and weak. As if he was in some sort of pain.

"Not now, Merlin," Arthur said back, keeping his eyes locked on Oliver's smiling face.

"Arthur, really-"

"_Mer_lin!" Arthur hissed, finally turning his head. His blood ran cold when he saw one of the many shirtless men maintaining a tight grip on Merlin's right arm while holding a sword to the servant's exposed throat. Arthur's eyes were wide and he felt his hands shaking when he noticed how Merlin was trying his best to stay off of his bad foot. Pain was clearly evident on the warlock's dirty face, and it took all of Arthur's willpower not to charge forward and slice the shirtless man's head clear off of his body.

"It seems we've come to a bit of an obstacle," Oliver whispered, his lips now right next to Arthur's ear. The prince whirled around to face him, but was immediately knocked upside the head with some sort of club. Merlin jumped at the loud "_conk_" noise that was heard upon the club's contact with Arthur's unprepared and non-protected head.

"Arthur!" the warlock desperately cried out as he watched the prince fall to the ground, unconscious. Oliver was quick to gather up the prince's sword and then began searching his person for any other weapons he might have on him. Merlin racked his head for a spell but just let one slip out of his mouth without even thinking about which one it was.

"_Trowch i mewn i neidr!_" he hissed, staring at the club in Oliver's hand. Oliver looked up at the warlock just as Merlin's irises filled with gold. The cloaked sorcerer had no time to prepare for the club in his hand to suddenly melt into the form of a large rattlesnake, which hissed up at him. Oliver gasped and dropped the serpent on the ground, but it advanced on the sorcerer once again.

With him distracted, Merlin turned his head and focused intensely on the hilt of the sword that was being held to his throat, and his eyes flashed gold once again. The muscled man holding him let out a yelp similar to the one Arthur had earlier when the hilt of the sword began to burn. The man let go of the sword at the same time he released Merlin's arm. As he began blowing on his stinging hand, Merlin bent down, cooled the hilt down with another flash of his eyes, and grabbed the sword himself. He wasted no time in stabbing the blade straight through the shirtless man's stomach, sending him down to the ground with a painful wheeze.

"You are going to wish you hadn't done that, boy," Oliver threatened. Merlin turned towards him and noticed Arthur's sword in his hand, a headless snake at his feet. The warlock held up his own stolen sword, prepared to do his best at protecting himself and his prince, but was suddenly yanked off the ground and thrown into a nearby tree.

"Problems, Oliver?" Kadwyn asked as he walked up to the area, another torch in his hand. Merlin lifted his head from where he had landed on the ground and watched Kadwyn look over Arthur's fallen form. Oliver smirked again, looking over at Merlin.

"None at all," he replied darkly, lifting his open hand towards the weakened warlock. "_Rhowch ef i gysgu._" And despite his best efforts, Merlin couldn't stop his eyelids from dropping over his bright blue eyes or his head from falling back to the ground.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, I wanted Merlin to get into a bit of a fight and use his magic a bit more. I'm not supportive of the whole "Arthur being conveniently knocked out so Merlin can use magic around him" thing that they have going in the series... buuuut it just seemed to work out here. XD**

**I hope y'all enjoyed! Again, terribly sorry for the bloody long wait! I promise I'll update sooner next time! Now pretty please click that wonderful blue button under the Author's Note and leave me a little review! ;D Cookies for anyone who does!**

**(( Claire ))**


	9. Chapter Nine

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and feedback, everyone! :) It warms my heart to know that people are liking this story so much! Oh, and for all of you who reviewed... here are those virtual cookies I promised! *hands out cookies***

**Just a forewarning: this chapter is almost completely informational. There really isn't much action to this one except for a little teeth-gritter near the end that I'm sure most of you will be able to pick out, lol. I really wanted to get back to our favorite evil sorceresses, and so I figured I'd just give you guys some info that you may wanna know about. ;)**

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Nine**

Her long purple dress whispered across the floor as Morgana made her way down one of the many old hallways of the abandoned castle that she and her sister now occupied. Morgana had found it a relief when Morgause was able to materialize a complete duplicate of every article of clothing that Morgana had had in Camelot. The King's ward had asked for the originals, but Morgause had simple replied that it would arouse confusion and maybe even suspicion in Camelot if the clothes of the King's missing ward were to suddenly disappear.

Two men who had, among others, shamelessly agreed to be guards at their castle, opened the two large doors leading into the dining hall as Morgana approached. They both bowed their heads as the beautiful woman passed through the doorway, and then they pulled the doors shut once again. Morgana instantly saw her sister sitting at the far end of a long dining table, picking grape after grape out of a silver bowl and popping them into her mouth with her delicate fingers. There was an empty chair next to her at the side of the table, and both women smiled at each other as their eyes met.

"Good morning, sister," Morgause greeted as Morgana sat down in the empty chair. "I trust you slept well?"

"I…" Morgana hesitated, remembering all too clearly what she had seen in her latest nightmare. "I had another vision of that mirror with the same woman inside the glass," she stated, editing quickly. "Please Morgause, tell me what it is. Your reaction yesterday told me that you seemed to know what I was describing…"

"I have a… premonition, yes," she spoke, picking another of the green grapes up between her perfectly sharp nails. "I have heard of a mirror with a stone table and a goblet in front of it, and a person looking out from within the glass. It is something called the Poisoned Mirror, and is not commonly used or even sought out. From what I have learned, it is a strange treasure that… when you get right down to it, doesn't make much sense to even exist." She took another grape and popped it into her mouth while Morgana poured herself a cup of wine from a silver pitcher. "The mirror plays with death itself," Morgause continued after she had swallowed. "The woman you saw in your dream – she's dead, and is in need of assistance from someone outside the mirror."

"That's why you asked if I saw anyone outside of it?" Morgana questioned, confusion swirling around inside her. Why would a dead woman need assistance from _Merlin_?

"Well… sort of," Morgause answered. "You see, the reason it is called the Poisoned Mirror is because that whoever is inside the glass needs the blood of someone that _they_ have poisoned before their death. For some reason, having poisoned someone during their lifetime permits oneself to an opportunity to come back to life, but at a little of a risk. Once freed from the mirror, the previously dead one is then connected to the one they once poisoned, meaning that one can not die without the other dying as well.

"I have only heard of this mirror being used once, by a sorcerer long ago. Once this sorcerer was freed from the mirror, he used a powerful spell to take control of his victim's body, and fused them together so that one could never stray from the other. It was in vain, however, for the sorcerer was then killed again only a few months afterward." Morgause chuckled, picking another grape up between her nails. Morgana had frozen during Morgause's explanation, and was now staring down at the table in front of her. She could feel her grip on her cup of wine tightening with every second, and tried to relax her suddenly tense muscles, but found that she couldn't.

Merlin was in more trouble than Morgana had even begun to anticipate. She could not understand why she cared so much for such a backstabbing, weak-minded fool, but she couldn't shake the concern for him out of her. She felt the goose bumps begin to rise up her arms as the images of her most recent nightmare flashed back through her head, and was suddenly grateful that nearly all of her dresses had long sleeves.

"Morgana," the blonde enchantress said, reaching over to place her hand on her sister's shoulder. Morgana snapped out of her reverie immediately at the woman's touch, accidentally spilling her wine over the wooden table. She and Morgause both instantly jumped to their feet as one of their men hurried forward with a wash cloth.

"Sister, I… I'm so sorry," Morgana stuttered, seeming frazzled as the wine was wiped away. "I was just thinking and not paying attention and-"

"Morgana," Morgause silenced her, taking the dark-haired woman's hands in her own. "This mirror is nothing to fear. I have yet to discover why you keep seeing it in your prophetic dreams, but it is not something to worry about, I assure you." When Morgana didn't reply, Morgause reached one of her hands up to cup her sister's cheek while keeping their two other hands intertwined at their waists. Hazy green eyes met chocolatey brown ones, and Morgana forced herself to smile halfheartedly and nod her head.

"I have nothing to fear when I'm with you, sister," Morgana told her, and a soft smile graced Morgause's lips. She removed her hand from Morgana's cheek to lean forward and kiss it instead before taking her seat once again, the wine now completely gone and Morgana's cup refilled.

"Please, sister, sit," Morgause encouraged, gesturing at the empty chair beside her when Morgana stayed standing.

"I… think I will take a walk, actually," the King's ward admitted, stepping away from the table. "I have a lot on my mind right now, what with the mirror and everything."

Morgause nodded. "Of course. Be back soon, though; I have a new spell that I would like to teach you."

Morgana nodded in return, and turned to leave. Before she made it very far, however, she turned back around to face Morgause once again.

"Wait, I forgot… I wanted to ask if you knew where this mirror was," she asked. "In my visions, there are always trees surrounding it, as if it were in some kind of clearing in a wood somewhere."

"Now, that even I do not know," Morgause answered, plucking another grape out of the bowl before her. "You are right to say that it's in a forest, but I was never told which forest in particular that it was placed in."

Morgana nodded solemnly as Morgause tossed the grape she held into her mouth. "Thank you, sister." Both women gently nodded at each other before Morgana turned and exited the dining hall, the doors once again opened for her.

Her thoughts were plagued by worry for Merlin, though she wished for nothing more than to get rid of it. Merlin hadn't hesitated in poisoning and attempting to kill her, so why should she care so much if he was to be used by some dead person trying to regain their flesh and blood? Why should she care if he went through as much pain and turmoil as she saw him go through in her nightmares? Why should she care about him at all?

_Because… you love him…_ a nagging voice hissed in the back of her mind. But how was something that ridiculous even possible? Merlin was a mere servant! He was certainly not worth the love of the King's very ward. _And yet, he has it…_ the nagging voice told her, trying to convince her it was the truth. But it couldn't be… could it? Merlin had poisoned her – therefore, she should rightfully hate him and swear to be the one who took his last breath from his body.

Why was all of this suddenly happening to her? She hadn't ever even thought of Merlin – in a _good_ way – for the couple of months since Morgause had fled Camelot with her. Morgana was well aware of how close she and Merlin had bonded as friends over the amount of time the clumsy boy had been in Camelot, but was it really possible that that bond had grown a little too strong on her part?

She shook her head at herself and continued down the stairs she hadn't even noticed she had reached. Not very long later, she was stepping onto the freshly dewed grass outside the castle and breathing in the brisk morning air. The sky overhead was a dim grey, but patches of blue could be seen above the white-capped mountains painted across the horizon. The sorceress sighed before setting off across the field that surrounded the castle, towards the borderline of evergreen trees.

* * *

_Bloody hell… What the hell happened?_

Arthur felt himself groan as he slowly began to come back to reality. He groaned again when he became aware of an aching throbbing in his head. He tried to instinctively reach his hand up to his head, but found that his arms were bound tightly behind his back and secured to the trunk of a tree. When he realized that he was restrained, he instinctively began fighting against his bonds, though every tug against the rope was a weak one. His head felt so dizzy and was pounding so hard that he could hardly concentrate.

His tired blue eyes weakly flickered open, and the first thing he noticed was that the sky was now a light grey. He could vaguely remember the events of the previous night – crawling, some rope, an ankle, his sword burning his hands, a sword held to Merlin's throat…

_Merlin…_

The prince snapped to almost instantly, and he whipped his throbbing head from side to side, wincing slightly from the pain it caused him to do so. His eyes roved the area, searching for the idiotic manservant, and found him lying on the ground at the feet of a cloaked man, bound and gagged once again, not too far away from where the prince was restrained. The cloaked man was speaking with a leather-clad man atop one of three black horses, and both kept glancing down at the unconscious servant on the ground every now and again.

Arthur felt enraged at the sight of Merlin, out cold, at the feet of two disgusting men, and his splitting headache was only worsened as his eyebrows knit together in anger. He had no time to pretend to still be unconscious himself before the cloaked man turned his head towards the prince. Arthur almost found himself not surprised when he saw the face of Oliver looking in his direction. The sorcerer smirked when he saw the expression on Arthur's face, spoke a few more words to the leather-clad man, and then strode over to where the prince was bound.

"Good morning," Oliver murmured as he approached, his lips still twisted up in something of an amused smirk. "Sleep well?"

"You will release him immediately or I will-"

"What?" Oliver cut him off in a taunt. "You will what, Arthur Pendragon? Unleash your mighty fury on us all? You don't even have a weapon, prince."

"I don't need a weapon to kill the likes of _you_," Arthur spat with as much venom as he could muster. "I'll tear your throat out with my bare hands."

Oliver chuckled, delighted by such a pathetic threat. "You should not care so much about that boy, Arthur Pendragon. And soon, you will know why."

Without another word, Oliver moved behind the tree that Arthur's arms to tied to and with a flash of his eyes released the prince from his bonds. Arthur was on his feet in an instant, though he swayed slightly because his head was spinning so much, but he regained his composure and turned to face Oliver, his fists up and ready. Oliver didn't seem fazed whatsoever, and merely raised an open palm out towards the prince.

"_Ffrwyno ei symudiadau_," he muttered, his deep green eyes flooding with gold. Arthur suddenly felt himself become very rigid and stiff, and as he tried in vain to move one of his arms, he realized that Oliver had stilled him completely. The sorcerer moved forward, ignoring the growl that came from deep within Arthur's chest, and began binding the prince's arms once again, though in front of him this time. When Oliver was satisfied, he released Arthur from his spell but immediately began leading the prince over to the black horses. The only reason that Arthur did not fight him was because he was being led straight over to Merlin's unconscious form.

"I must admit, Arthur Pendragon, that I am impressed with your perseverance to rescue a mere servant in your eyes," the leather-clad man atop one of the horses said when the two men approached him. Arthur felt his teeth grit together and his nose scrunch at the stench emitted from the man. The man noticed Arthur's response to being so close to him, and so the man's hand whipped out faster than the prince could even comprehend. There was just a black blur, a loud _slap_, and then a stinging pain in Arthur's right cheek that felt like hundreds of needles were being repeatedly stuck into his skin. Something of a gasp of pure shock escaped Arthur's lips as his head was thrown to the side from the impact of the hit, but he had no time to compose himself before the leather-clad tyrant was squeezing both of the prince's cheeks and forcing Arthur to look into his dark eyes. He let out one simple chuckle as he saw the pain and utter hatred in Arthur's blue eyes.

"What a revelation this will be," the man muttered. He gave Arthur's cheeks one last squeeze before shoving him backwards into Oliver's waiting arms. "Mount them both. I don't care how you do, but get it done. I want to be to the mirror as soon as possible."

With only a nod, Oliver forced Arthur over to one of the other three black horses. With a little difficulty and help from Oliver's magic, the prince was secured to the saddle of his horse much like Merlin had been the day before. His feet were then strapped tightly to the metal stirrups to make it a little more difficult for him to fall off. After tugging on every knot to make sure they were secure, Oliver turned and walked over to Merlin's limp form. He strung the warlock over his shoulder, and Arthur was surprised to see that his face wasn't contorted with effort at all, despite the frailty of his muscles.

_Must be using magic…_ the prince figured, sneering to himself.

Oliver gently laid Merlin across the third horse's back on his stomach, and then hoisted himself up into the saddle behind the unconscious man. The cloaked sorcerer reached back and grabbed the reins of Arthur's horse, tied them tightly to his saddle, and then smirked back at Arthur before flipping his dark hood over his head while turning back around.

"Let's go, Kadwyn," he told the other man, his voice dark.

"You do not give me orders, worm," Kadwyn replied. Oliver didn't respond as Kadwyn whipped his reins and sent his horse off at a trot. Oliver followed suit, and Arthur's horse had no choice but to do the same.

Arthur kept his eyes on the bobbing head of his manservant hanging over the edge of Oliver's horse, wishing beyond everything that these men were merely mistaken with whatever it was they wanted with Merlin. Kadwyn had something about a mirror… probably a magical mirror, since they were both sorcerers. As the horses trotted through the trees, Arthur kept his eyes locked on Merlin, vowing silently to himself that he would die before he would let these men do anything more to his servant… his friend.

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**A/N: See what I mean? Information gallore. XP The next chapter will have more of those on-the-edge-of-your-seat moments, I promise. XD And then we'll really be kickin' it into the action, and I am soooo excited to get to the action that I have in store for y'all. ;D**

**Please review! Even though this chapter really doesn't give you much to review, lol! They still make my day! :)**

**(( Claire ))**


	10. Chapter Ten

**A/N: Firstly, before anything else, I want to apologize greatly for the horrible delay in this update. I've been dealing with the last couple months of school and I've had TERRIBLE writer's block... XP I could just never sit down and write like I usually can. But tomorrow's my last day of school, so I should have more time to write and hopefully I cleared out my writer's block a bit with this writing session I just finished up. So, again, terribly sorry for the long wait, but I hope it was worth it with this chapter!**

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**Chapter Ten**

Tree branches moved magically out of their way as the three black horses carried their riders through the woods. Arthur's eyes were locked on the pieces of the gray sky he could see above the trees, the man he heard referred to as Kadwyn was frequently looking down at something in his lap, and Oliver was merely staring ahead, his blank expression hidden from Arthur. The prince wanted to be able to do something – anything – to help himself and Merlin out of this situation, but he knew where any mischief would end them both up. Glancing quickly at Merlin's still unconscious form on Oliver's horse, Arthur's breath hitched at the idea of Merlin being killed because of him. The idiot being killed at all would send the prince into despair, but it happening _because_ of him… Arthur didn't think he would ever get over it.

Just as the prince's eyes landed on him, Merlin's own blue eyes started to flutter open, and when the warlock finally came into full focus his eyes went wide. He turned his head to the side to look straight into Arthur's eyes and the prince sent an apologetic look in his servant's direction. Merlin simply shook his head softly before looking up at Oliver. The hooded man turned his gaze downwards and smirked when he noticed that Merlin was awake.

"Rise and shine," he murmured, almost mockingly, and Arthur's eyes narrowed as the man used the line that Merlin used every morning.

"Where are you taking us?" Arthur demanded. Kadwyn pulled on his reins and forced his horse to a stop. Oliver's and Arthur's horses both did the same on their own, but stood still when Kadwyn turned his horse around and trotted slowly over to Arthur. The dark man stared the prince in the eye for a moment while Merlin once again fought against his rising magic.

"Well, you'll find out as soon as we get there, now won't you?" Kadwyn murmured in Arthur's face, resulting in a scowl from the prince.

"Why don't you just tell me?" he asked as Kadwyn started turning his horse back around. "Not like I'll be going anywhere any time soon."

"I have learned to never underestimate you, Arthur Pendragon," Kadwyn responded. "And I want it to be a surprise to both of you."

"I'm sure you'll both enjoy it," Oliver remarked, smirking. Kadwyn let out one loud laugh, throwing his head back with it. Oliver responded with his own set of quiet chuckles, and Merlin and Arthur shared an eye-roll.

The next few minutes of the ride were silent as both Arthur and Merlin tried to think of a way to escape. Merlin, of course, weighed his options of using magic, but for some reason, he was almost afraid to use magic around Oliver. He knew it was an irrational fear, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Oliver could somehow sense it whenever Merlin tried to use any kind of magic. And there was the fact that Merlin had no idea whether using magic would better or worsen his and Arthur's predicament. It seemed to only make things worse for both of them so far, so he decided not to chance it.

Arthur, on the other hand, was completely and utterly helpless. The ropes that were keeping him attached to his horse had been enchanted, he was without a weapon of any sort, and he had no knowledge whatsoever of where they were going except for the fact that it was some kind of "mirror". Who kidnapped a servant and captured his master all in an attempt to see a mirror? Arthur figured it must be some kind of magical mirror, which made everything all the more worse.

Kadwyn kept looking down into his lap as they rode on and Merlin decided to stretch his neck to try to see what the man kept doing. He caught sight of something orange in the man's hands before his neck was snapped back to its earlier position by Oliver. Something small and orange, and from what Merlin caught a glimpse of, it was kind of round. And it may have just been his eyes playing tricks on him, but Merlin could have sworn that he saw it glowing as well.

Some kind of high-pitched squeal rang through the trees that caused Kadwyn, Oliver, and Merlin all to cringe slightly. Arthur was unaffected however, as he wasn't able to hear it, and all three horses suddenly came to a stop. Both Arthur and Merlin stretched their necks to see up ahead, and both saw something glinting through the trees. A grin made its way onto Kadwyn's face as he slipped the round orange object into his pocket and slid to the ground. Oliver jumped down to the ground as well and tied his and Arthur's horses to the same branch that Kadwyn had tied his. Both men ignored their captives for the time being and walked towards the trees where the glint was coming from. Pushing the branches aside, the two sorcerers stepped into a circular clearing bathed in the sunlight that was just beginning to appear. Merlin and Arthur shared a glance as the two men talked quietly amongst themselves before turning and striding back over to Kadwyn's horse. The leather-clad man looked at the confused expression on Arthur's face for a short moment and then gave him a small grin.

"We're here, gentlemen," he murmured quietly.

* * *

Sitting down quietly on a rock, Morgana slipped off her shoes and dipped her feet gently into the flowing stream. She shivered slightly from the cold water but quickly became used to the soothing temperature. She heard all the familiar sounds of a forest – birds singing, squirrels scampering, branches rustling – and she suddenly missed the days of her youth when she and her father would go out together on walks in the woods. She would always pretend like she knew where they were going, but in reality she always relied on her father's directions.

A smile graced her lips as the wind softly combed through her wavy hair. She welcomed the warm breeze that danced across her skin, closing her eyes and turning her face skyward in comfort and relaxation. She hardly ever had the time to just take a walk by herself and be succumbed by her thoughts. She liked being able to just think about where life was headed and where it had come from. Past mistakes, present decisions, future dreams…

Looking across the small creek where her feet still waded, Morgana focused on a small patch on grass. She tried to remember the spell that Morgause had muttered on their walk a day before. A few moments later, Morgana quickly let a string of words zip past her lips. The patch of green grass she had been focusing on was suddenly white as lilies sprouted out of the ground and covered it. Morgana smiled to herself, proud that she had been able to remember such an insignificant spell as this one. If she could remember a spell as simple as this one, she should have no problem with the important spells that Morgause planned on teaching her. Well… she hoped she would have no problem.

Just then, a sharp ringing noise pierced her ears. Her feet kicked involuntarily, splashing her slightly with the cold stream water, and her hands both flew to her ears. Despite the fact that she blocked out all surrounding sounds, the ringing noise didn't get any quieter. It was as if she could hear it inside her head rather than with her ears.

And then, a moment later, it disappeared. She lowered her hands into her lap and looked around where she was sitting. She didn't see anyone around her, but she could hear something faintly over the sound of the babbling brook in front of her. It sounded like some kind of creature, or more than one, making its way through the trees. She could hear the sound of the creature's footsteps and the rustle of its backside brushing past the branches of the trees.

Did this creature have something to do with the ringing noise she had heard? Had Morgause also been able to hear the noise all the way back at the castle? Did it have something to do with magic?

Slipping her feet back into her shoes, Morgana carefully hopped two rocks over to the other side of the small stream and then began into the trees on the other side. She could still hear the rustling of whatever was moving, but she could tell that the creature was slowing down or coming to a slow stop. She knew that she probably should have gone back to Morgause and asked if she had heard the same ringing noise, but something told her to continue on into the trees. She hoped Morgause didn't come looking for her – after all, not even Morgana knew what it was she was heading towards.

After a few minutes of walking, Morgana was able to see some light up ahead. As she walked closer, she noticed something glinting in the light, and when she came to edge of the clearing bathed in light, she gasped.

There, in the middle of the clearing, was the Poisoned Mirror itself.

Two men, one completely dressed in leather and the other hidden under a long dark cloak, emerged from the trees to Morgana's left. Each of them had a set of reins in their hand and a horse following them out of the trees. Morgana gasped quietly and spun herself behind the tree she stood next to. Who were those men? And what in the hell were they doing out in the middle of the woods? At the Poisoned Mirror, no less.

Morgana slowly and cautiously poked her head back around the tree to see the men lead their horses out of the trees. The sorceress could just barely see the legs of a body dangling over the side of the cloaked man's horse, but there was nothing on the other man's horse. Morgana thought she understood what was going on here now, according to what Morgause had told her earlier that morning, but when a third horse was led out of the trees Morgana was just as confused as she had previously been when she saw who was in the saddle.

Arthur shifted uncomfortably in the saddle as his horse was pulled through the trees. Merlin's neckerchief, which had previously been used to gag him, was now acting as a blindfold for the warlock. Arthur had watched how careful Oliver had been with removing the scarf from around Merlin's mouth; immediately slapping his hand over the boy's lips in substitution, Oliver had hissed something into Merlin's ear too low for Arthur to hear. Merlin hadn't fought against him when Oliver removed his hand from the warlock's mouth and began tying the scarf around Merlin's eyes. And Oliver had done all this before neither Arthur nor Merlin could get a good look at what was beyond the wall of trees ahead of them.

Now though, they were through that wall of trees, and Arthur had a clear view of the lone mirror in the middle of the circular clearing. Arthur stared at the glinting mirror with interest, wondering what its purpose was. Who would just leave a mirror out in the middle of the forest? But as he thought this, Arthur noticed how the stone arch bordering the glass seemed to grow right out of the ground, as if the mirror had naturally sprouted up where it stood.

Kadwyn now was working at heaving Merlin over his shoulder while Oliver walked over to Arthur, revealing a dagger from under his cloak and starting to saw away at the rope strapping the prince's feet to the stirrups. Instead of carrying Merlin over his shoulder like it looked like he had been planning to do, Kadwyn set the warlock down on his feet and then sliced his sword through the ropes binding Merlin's ankles together. His foot ached terribly from having his weight put on it, but the throbbing ankle was not able to hold Merlin up when his feet were cut apart. His injured leg shuttered as weight was put on it and it suddenly gave out on him. He started falling towards the ground, and Arthur jumped instinctively in a vain attempt to catch his servant. Kadwyn was the one who threw his arms out and caught Merlin before the warlock could hit the ground.

"Clumsy oaf," Kadwyn muttered under his breath, lifting Merlin back onto his feet just as Arthur jumped down to the ground next to Oliver. The cloaked sorcerer drew his sword and held the blade up to Arthur's back, pushing the prince in the direction he wanted him to go. Arthur turned his head back as far as he could as Kadwyn began leading a limping Merlin towards the mirror in the center of the clearing, and the blonde knew that they were in for some serious trouble. He couldn't shake the feeling that this mirror was nothing but bad news.

Oliver stopped them at a seemingly random tree a little ways from where the horses had been tied. He took the sword and sliced it through the ropes binding Arthur's wrists, but immediately twisted both of the prince's wrists behind his back, causing Arthur to yelp quietly in slight pain. The trunk of the tree they had stopped at wasn't very large, and Oliver was easily able to wrap Arthur's arms around it and retie his wrists together behind it.

"_Rhwymwch ef â chadwyni,"_ the sorcerer chanted, staring at Arthur. His eyes flashed gold and numerous silver chains began wrapping themselves around Arthur's body and the tree, securely strapping the prince to the trunk. Oliver smiled smugly before raising his sword once again, lightly pressing the tip of the blade to Arthur's neck. Arthur stood absolutely still, barely breathing, and watched Kadwyn still leading Merlin towards the mirror. The prince tried to ignore the fact that there was a blade at his throat, but it wasn't all too easy.

Merlin couldn't see anything except the faint red color of his scarf covering his eyes. He stumbled as Kadwyn led him forward, limping heavily due to the injury he had taken to his ankle the previous day. He'd give anything to just be able to heal it with magic, but he hadn't studied healing spells very much and Arthur was there with them. Despite the situation they were both in, Merlin refused to use his magic in front of Arthur. What if they actually got out of this alive? What if they made it back to Camelot? What if Arthur told his father about a certain servant's hidden talent? Merlin wasn't willing to risk such a precious secret of his, despite how much he wished he could.

A hand was suddenly thrown into his chest and he stopped walking, losing a small breath. He had no idea where he was or what was going on – he couldn't see anything – but for some reason he was suddenly forced down onto his knees. His injured ankle screamed in protest, but Merlin didn't make a sound as he allowed himself to be pushed down. His wrists itched and burned due to the rope that was biting into his skin and still securing his hands behind his back. He desperately wished he could just slip the rope off, kill Kadwyn and Oliver, and get himself and Arthur out of there.

But Kadwyn had known the young warlock would wish this, and was one step ahead.

"_One wrong move, kid, and your little prince over there will never see the light of day again."_ Kadwyn's words from when he had switched Merlin's neckerchief from his mouth to his eyes echoed within the young warlock's mind. One step out of line, and Arthur would be killed. Merlin suspected that Kadwyn had Oliver set up so that he could easily kill Arthur if Merlin were to slip up, but the warlock had no intentions of letting Arthur die.

Suddenly, the scarf was torn away from Merlin's eyes, and he blinked against the blinding sunlight. Once his eyes had adjusted, he looked up at what Kadwyn had brought him to. At first, Merlin raised an eyebrow in confusion. It was just some kind of mirror.

But then the realization dawned on him and he was filled with terror and more confusion. It was the mirror from the dream he'd had only a few nights before, with the little stone table and the silver goblet in front of it. Images from the dream suddenly flashed through his head, and he realized then that he had seen the red scarf torn away from his own eyes in the dream. He saw his eyes widen in the mirror's reflection, and Kadwyn smirked at the warlock's look of horror.

"Don't move," he ordered, and then turned towards the mirror. Merlin's déjà vu experience continued as Kadwyn placed his hand gently on the mirror and the glass rippled under his fingers. Merlin felt his heart rate quicken and his breathing suddenly become ragged as Kadwyn bowed his head in respect and murmured, "My lady."

Merlin couldn't help but hope that this was all just another nightmare.

Slowly, the ripples from Kadwyn's touch all began to form the shape of a woman. Merlin watched in both horror and intrigue as the long crimson dress faded into existence within the glass, followed by her arms and head. Her luxurious brown hair cascaded down her back, gently slipping over her shoulders and down her arms. Her bright blue eyes were full of satisfaction and hate… though the smile on her lips was forged solely by evil.

"Hello Merlin," she said softly but icily, her voice as soft as silk but as dangerous as a wild beast. Merlin felt his eyes widen further, and Nimueh's smile grew.

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**A/N: I just want to apologize again for the long wait! I will hopefully never have to deal with that kind of writer's block again, and updates will hopefully be a LOT more frequent from here on out.**

**So I hope this was worth the long-ass wait! I did merge Morgana's third person POV with Arthur's and Merlin's at the end because they're all in the same place now and everything. We're really getting into the exciting stuff now guys! So if you were on the edge of your seats before, you'll be falling out of them within these next few chapters! ;D**

**Pretty please leave me a nice little review! Reviews seriously make my day, and help with writer's block some of the time! So if you want quicker updates, reviews would be veeeery nice!**

**(( Claire ))**

**P.S. ~ ALSO! I made a new poll and posted it up on my profile! Go, check it out, and vote! I'd love to see the results and see what my fellow authors/readers are thinking involving that subject! :)  
**


	11. Chapter Eleven

**A/N: Before anything else, I just want to quickly apologize for the looooong wait for this update. DX I've been busy, I had writer's block, I lost inspiration for a couple weeks...**

**But then I saw the trailer for series 4 that some lucky person recorded at the Comic Con panel and my inspiration was TOTALLY back. :D Oh my goodness, I am soooo excited for series 4! Mostly injured!Merlin and worried!Arthur working to save him! Eeee heeee!**

***clears throat* Anyway... I hope you enjoy this chapter. XD**

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**Chapter Eleven**

The clearing was silent as Merlin and Nimueh stared into each other's eyes. Arthur's eyes were wide; he recognized the woman in the mirror to be the woman who had left him to die while on his quest for a cure to a poison which Merlin had drank. The prince was more confused in that moment than he thought he'd ever been in his life.

"I'm amazed you actually got him here," Nimueh said, glancing at Kadwyn. Her eyes flickered briefly towards the trees. "And why on earth is Prince Arthur of Camelot here?"

"He came after us in an attempt to save his precious servant," Kadwyn replied, a slight sneer in his voice. "The sorcerer knows that if he makes one wrong move, his prince's life will be gone in an instant."

"That is not a very good way to keep a sorcerer in line," Nimueh scolded, looking at Kadwyn again. "But enough of that. You know what to do now, don't you?"

"Nimueh," Merlin finally spoke up, looking up at the witch in the mirror. The beautiful woman turned her gaze down to the warlock and gave him a smile.

"Is there something you need, Merlin?" she asked him.

"What did you have them bring me here for?" Merlin said straight-forward, staring into the witch's bright blue eyes. His question only made her smile grow.

"Well now, why don't I just show you?" Nimueh said to him. Before Merlin could speak again, Kadwyn was behind him, cutting his hands free. Merlin's initial instinct was to attack and try to get away from the man, but he caught a glimpse of Arthur and did nothing as the rope fell from his wrists. He wanted to slap himself for being so afraid to use his magic; even if it was in front of Arthur, he would be using his magic to save the prince's life. Surely that would make some sort of impact on Arthur's decision on whether or not to turn Merlin into his father… wouldn't it?

Kadwyn pulled Merlin's right hand forward and held it over the gleaming silver goblet. Merlin stared at the cup before him, and then suddenly was struck full-on by an invisible force, strong enough to throw his head back and make his muscles tense up. A loud ring screeched through his head, just as it had the day before, when Oliver was leading his horse towards the camp, only stronger. Merlin didn't notice it, but Nimueh smiled once again at the young warlock's situation. Kadwyn, on the other hand, took a handful of Merlin's hair and yanked him forward, only causing the pain within the man's head to worsen.

"I told you-" Kadwyn began.

"Do not worry, Kadwyn," Nimueh cut him off. "Merlin is merely sensing the Cup's power." As if on some sort of cue, as soon as the words left Nimueh's mouth the ringing in Merlin's head disappeared and he once again felt back to his normal self. His eyes widened, though, and moved back up to meet Nimueh's once again.

"The… Cup?" he questioned.

"Yes, Merlin, the cup before you is none other than the Cup of Life itself. You didn't really think that it was just some measly old goblet from a tavern, did you?"

"How the hell did you manage to get the Cup of Life?" Merlin asked incredulously. "You're dead!" Nimueh's smile faltered.

"But I'm not," Kadwyn said, smacking Merlin across the head. "Damn Cup was bloody difficult to get our hands on, but we did it. And it's none of your little filthy business how we managed to."

"Enough," Nimueh hissed. "Kadwyn, do it now."

The dark-haired man once again took Merlin's right arm and held his hand over the Cup. After sliding a wavy dagger out of his belt, Kadwyn held the dirty blade up to Merlin's open palm, and both Arthur and Morgana knitted their eyebrows together in confusion. Without even a moment of hesitation, Kadwyn sliced the dagger across Merlin's palm and blood instantly rose to the surface. Merlin cringed in pain and instinctively tried to draw his arm back into his body, but Kadwyn held it out over the Cup, squeezing the blood out of the wound. The sticky red liquid slid quickly down Merlin's hand, as there was so much of it, and dripped into the waiting silver Cup below it.

"_Mae hyn yn gwaed wedi cael ei gwenwyno gan yr one yn y drych. Gadewch y gwaed yn dod â bywyd yn ôl i mewn i'r un sydd wedi gwenwyno mae'n_," Kadwyn chanted as the blood fell into the goblet. When only a few drops had landed inside the Cup, the leather-clad man's eyes briefly flashed gold, and a gold light erupted from within the Cup. Merlin immediately grabbed his neckerchief, which Kadwyn had tossed carelessly on the ground, and wrapped it around his right hand as the mirror also began to glow a bright gold.

From behind her tree, Morgana could barely believe her eyes. If her nightmares were anything to go off of, these people would not be any sort of good news to Merlin or Arthur. And the sheer amount of power Morgana could feel emanating from the brightly glowing mirror confirmed her fears even more. She still wasn't completely sure why she was so worried about the prince and his servant, but she hardly cared anymore.

Merlin's arm was up, shielding his eyes from the bright golden glow of the mirror, and it took him a slow second to lower his arm enough to see when the golden light had vanished. His blue eyes widened immediately as they travelled up her body, now completely real and alive. Nimueh was no longer trapped within the mirror, and she now stood before the kneeling warlock with her eyes closed and her face turned up towards the sky. Her arms were spread out to her sides and a smile was on her face as she felt the wind whisper through her dark brunette hair.

"Aahh," she sighed, clenching her pale hands into fists. Merlin's arm was now down to his side as he stared up at her, awed at how a few drops of his blood had brought her out of that mirror. "It feels… so… _good_," the witch said, snapping her brilliantly bright blue eyes open. She turned her head down towards Merlin, still smiling, and lowered her arms to her sides. "Hello Merlin," she said to him again, in exactly the same tone she had when she had first revealed herself to the warlock inside the mirror.

"My lady," Kadwyn also repeated, dipping his head in slight respect. Nimueh turned her gaze away from Merlin and rested it upon Kadwyn just as the man looked back up at her.

"You were of much help to me, Kadwyn," the witch said to him. "I am very grateful."

When it was clear that Nimueh wasn't going to say anything more, Kadwyn cleared his throat and took a step towards her. "Where's my pay?" he demanded, staring intently at her. Nimueh chuckled quietly.

"Ah yes, I did promise you something in return, did I not?" she said, looking directly into Kadwyn's dark eyes. "I suppose now is as perfect a time as any to give you what you rightfully deserve." Kadwyn caught onto the hidden meaning within her words almost instantly, and snapped her arm up towards one of the swords on his back. Nimueh smirked at him, and only one short word slipped past her lips. Her eyes flashed gold and out of nowhere a bolt of lightning shot through the air, tearing right through Kadwyn's unprotected chest. Merlin flinched subconsciously at the sound of the impact, and watched as Kadwyn's body fell to the ground.

"I really must thank you, Merlin, for giving your blood to this cause," Nimueh said, turning her amused gaze back to the warlock.

"I didn't give my blood, it was taken from me by force," Merlin argued, staring angrily up into the witch's eyes.

"Details, details," Nimueh sighed, waving her hand dismissively.

"You killed him," Oliver said, having left his station near Arthur and walked angrily over to the mirror. "You killed my master!" Nimueh turned her eyes over onto the young man.

"Yes, that I did," she responded flatly. "And unless you'd like to be next, I suggest you use those sticks you call legs and run from here as fast as you can."

"I'm not afraid of you," Oliver stated, raising his hands. Nimueh smirked, silently accepting his challenge.

"So be it," she merely said. Merlin looked from Nimueh to Oliver, his eyes wide.

"Oliver, no!" Merlin cried out, jumping at him just as Nimueh's lips began to move and her eyes glowed. The young warlock tackled Oliver to the ground, just barely pushing him out of the way of the coming bolt of lightning. When Merlin became fully aware of his actions, his eyes widened further in surprise. Oliver's wide eyes looked up to meet Merlin's, and they merely stared at each other in shock for a short moment.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Nimueh questioned, amused once again. Merlin looked up at Nimueh briefly before looking back at Oliver.

"You need to run," he hissed quietly to the cloaked man, who didn't respond. Without waiting for any sort of reply, Merlin pushed himself to his feet and turned to face Nimueh again. "Leave him alone, it's me you want," the warlock said to her. Nimueh laughed.

"Your part has been played, Merlin, I no longer need you," she simply said. "I just want some fun…"

Without any sort of warning, Nimueh threw her hand out and launched a spell at Oliver, who was now on his feet. Merlin was quick to react, rushing forward and grabbing Nimueh's outstretched hand. He turned her arm to the side, causing her to shoot her spell off-target. Merlin turned back to Oliver, Nimueh's arm still in his grasp.

"Run!" he yelled. Oliver stared at him, completely still. _"RUN!"_ Merlin screamed. For some reason, the way Merlin said it that time made Oliver's legs finally respond. The man turned and hurried through the wall of trees, running right past the tree where Arthur was still bound. The prince was struggling with all his might to free himself now that he saw the danger that Merlin and himself were in.

Nimueh threw Merlin off of her arm and back to the ground with the help of a spell, and Merlin bit his lip when his ankle throbbed painfully. She held her arm down towards where Merlin landed and she muttered a spell. Merlin was barely able to dodge the red ball of energy that was shot from the witch's hand, and when he looked again, the grass where he had just been was burnt to a crisp. Nimueh uttered another spell and attempted to kill Merlin again, but the warlock rolled out of the way once again.

Morgana desperately wanted to run out from the trees and help Merlin, but she knew that she couldn't and that she shouldn't. She shouldn't even be there watching the events unfold before her very eyes. In a way, she was just as restricted as the prince at that moment.

When Arthur crossed her mind, she turned her eyes over to where the prince was vainly tearing against the chains that strapped him to the tree. Morgana smiled – she may not be able to help Merlin, but Arthur sure could. But she couldn't go over there and free him… she would definitely be seen by him. She once again felt completely helpless, and anger coursed through her veins. She had to help them… she couldn't help them… Morgause wouldn't want her to help them… Merlin had poisoned her… they all hated her kind and would soon see her dead because of her magical ability… but Merlin wouldn't, would he? He had helped her in the beginning when she was first having troubles… but he had poisoned her! He had been ready to kill her himself!

So many emotions and conflicting thought processes crashed together within her, and she wasn't even aware of the magic that she released until it already had been. Morgana's irises flashed a bright gold and, out of nowhere, the chains binding Arthur to the tree also flashed gold before disintegrating. The rope that bound his wrists behind the trunk also disappeared, and the prince pulled his arms out in front of himself in shock. Morgana gasped in shock at what she had just done – she hadn't spoken any sort of spell or even been aware that she was using magic, and yet, the prince was free from his restraints. Without waiting another moment, Morgana turned and ran back through the trees in the direction she had come from. Tears were racing down her cheeks as she ran, but she didn't care to wipe them away.

Not wasting a second, Arthur picked up his sword, which Oliver had dropped on the ground before stomping over to the mirror, and ran towards Nimueh. The witch had her hand outstretched towards Merlin once again but noticed Arthur before she could say a spell. Merlin took advantage of her slight distraction and rolled back onto his feet, looking over at Arthur in surprise.

"Well, look at this, the little prince is free," Nimueh mocked, now standing between the two men. She felt absolutely no fear, however, and even kept her smile present on her face.

"Give up, witch," Arthur said in a voice of authority. Nimueh laughed.

"Oh, Arthur Pendragon, how could I give up when things have just gotten started?" she asked. Arthur's eyebrows rose. "Heh… let's have some fun now, shall we?" Nimueh murmured, turning back towards Merlin. "_Ef a minnau, I ac ef, connect ni, ond yr wyf i fod â gofal_," she said quietly, and her eyes flashed gold. Almost instantly, Merlin felt something strange beginning to build up inside himself. His and Nimueh's eyes were locked as some sort of strange sensation overtook his entire body. His breath hitched and his shoulders hunched slightly. His fingers twitched and his eyes closed tightly. His teeth clenched as his breathing came faster and harder, and all Arthur could do was watch in stupefied awe. Nimueh smiled yet again as Merlin stood up straighter, his ankle magically healed, and with a loud gasp, Merlin's eyes flew open, but the normal blue color was flooded with a bright gold. Arthur's own eyes widened and he took a step back, but the molten gold color melted back into the deep blue the prince recognized a moment later. For a second, Arthur thought whatever Nimueh had tried to do to Merlin hadn't worked.

But then the witch raised her arm towards Merlin and motioned with her fingers for him to come towards her. Without any hesitation, the young warlock began walking towards the witch before him, and Arthur found himself more confused than he had been earlier. Why was Merlin going towards her? Why was he doing what she told him to do?

The prince was about to yell at his friend and demand to know what the hell he was doing, but Merlin threw him a look before he could. Arthur looked intently at his friend and could see the same distress and surprise and confusion that he was feeling in Merlin's eyes. Whatever it was that was making Merlin walk towards Nimueh, it certainly wasn't Merlin's own willpower.

As if confirming what Arthur didn't want to think possible, Nimueh turned around to face him and, as she moved her hand out towards him, Merlin began walking straight for him, both of Kadwyn's swords clenched tightly in his hands.

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**A/N: Yes, yes, Merlin is the all-powerful sorcerer Emrys, but I really think that he would have a very hard time convincing himself to use his magic when Arthur was nearby. Even in a situation like this. And honestly, I don't think he's really grown to nearly his full potential as a wizard yet, seeing as this story takes place in between series' 2 and 3. So, he is powerful, yes, but at the same time, I think it's perfectly possible for a witch as powerful as Nimueh to be able to cast a spell on him and be able to control him. And yes, that's what she did, if you didn't understand that. XD;;**

**I will work very hard on getting the next chapter out sooner than I did this one! Once again, I'm sorry the update took so long. DX But I hope you enjoyed! Please review! They make the world go 'round! :)**

**(( Claire ))  
**


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